Sango's Choice
by berryandfriends
Summary: AU. When her people are put at risk, Princess Sango of the Taijiya kingdom lays her future on the line in place of her people's. Men from lands far and wide appear to fight for her hand in marriage, and bring with them wealth, promises, and veiled, twisted hearts. How heavy is the weight of sacrifice? How sharp is the knife it carries? Cover art by the fantastic sxm132.
1. a flower blooming

_Author's Note:_ As soon as this story came to mind, I couldn't resist. I have the entire thing outlined, each chapter detailed (for the most part), and even a couple of moments written. I get very restless while at work, and this story is the result of it.

_Sango's Choice_ is inspired by the story of Helen of Troy. Specifically, the line that brought this story into being is _the face that launched a thousand ships _(a very popular allusion, which I hope you've all heard). _Sango's Choice_ will not completely follow the story of Helen of Troy, so don't go thinking you know exactly how this will end! I intend to take you along a couple of twists and turns before we get anywhere close to an ending.

* * *

**Title:** Sango's Choice  
**Description:** When her people are put at risk, Princess Sango of the Taijiya kingdom lays her future on the line in place of her people's. Men from lands far and wide appear to fight for her hand in marriage, and bring with them wealth, promises, and veiled, twisted hearts. How heavy is the weight of sacrifice? How sharp is the knife it carries?  
**Rating:** T for violence, mature themes, and some language.  
**Pairings:** The main pairing will be Sango/Miroku. There are tons of side pairings, so stay tuned!  
**Setting:** This is an Alternate Universe set in ancient times. It is a world of kings and queens, of kingdoms and wars and court secrecy. It is a world of power, dominion, and tragedy.

* * *

**Chapter 1: **A Flower Blooming

* * *

The villagers were accustomed to dread. They were used to taking precaution, and they knew how to check and double check. They planted their most important crops in the secret places. Their best kept tips of their trade were learned through dread, through working around dread, to living with dread.

So when they woke up and stepped outside, when they realized the source of their dread had failed to meet them, they were stunned. Silently, each family looked out and saw their village untouched. No cattle were missing. All their public garden crops were growing, still. The flowers were uncrushed, vibrant and alive, bloomed overnight. Its scent was foreign to them — flowers had never lived long enough to bloom before.

Things looked just as they'd left them, and that was the most fearsome thing of all. The only difference in the scene, they realized, was the purple haze in the air. If they squinted just right, they could see it: a clear, purple fog, faint but visible enough to garner a second glance, enough to make the villagers squint to see it.

The murmuring began. Why hadn't the Tree Demon come? He had come every few months for years. They were too small of a village to find help, and too poor to pay for help even if it arrived. The village lived in anticipation of the Tree Demon's arrival, they even kept track of time by his coming. Now, he had failed to appear, and when combined with the purple hue in the air, there was only one logical conclusion to be made.

The Silent Hero had come.

* * *

The crack of a Kusarigama released into the air was too loud. It wouldn't do, and as Kohaku snapped it back into his hand, he winced at the weight of it against his palm. He thought about this sometimes, how he held the power of life and death in this one weapon of his. He knew just how to weld it. He had learned well.

He just wasn't sure if he believed what he had learned, yet.

"I don't see the point in training," Kohaku grumbled, his uncertainty coming out as complaints, "It's not like we've had any work to do in months."

"When it comes, you must be ready, young prince," his master Totosai said wisely as he watched carefully.

"What if it doesn't come?" the teenage prince asked, turning around to face Totosai with a challenging expression. "Ever since the Silent Hero showed up, there have been no demons for us to kill anyways. He's doing all the work, and once he's finished, there won't be any demons left."

"Release your weapon. We shall see if your prophecy comes to truth."

With a sigh, Kohaku followed his master's orders and turned his back to the old man, snapping his wrist as he strongly whipped the Kusarigama forward. His frustration had been unleashed with his weapon and the move was surprisingly steady, his pent up emotions perfecting his technique. Both Kohaku and Totosai paused for a single moment, in awe at the mastery he showed in that one motion.

The moment ended when a large boomerang guided itself directly onto the path of the Kusarigama and fell to the ground with it. At the sight of the weapon, Kohaku burst into a grin and looked around expectantly. "Sango?!"

His older sister appeared behind him, smiling at him. "Looks like you have more training to do," Sango commented, a hint of teasing in her tone.

Kohaku grinned and drew the Kusarigama back, the Hiraikotsu turning over as his weapon flew into his palm. "That was a perfect one, and you know it!" he called out, feigning offense.

"It was, but it could have easily been thwarted in battle. Perfect technique means nothing without the perfect plan," Sango recited one of their father's favorite sayings.

"You can't expect the young prince to master two difficult skills at once, Princess," Totosai jumped in. Kohaku nodded vehemently at his mater's words until his master began speaking again. "He is much too simple for that," the old man suddenly added.

Sango chuckled at the look of surprised indignation on Kohaku's face. She grabbed the Hiraikotsu and mounted it on her back before she made her way over to Kohaku and put an arm around his shoulders. "You're advancing quickly," she said kindly. He smiled at the compliment, but the silence gave away his unease to his sister, who had always been the one to see his emotions for what they were.

"It's okay to want to slow down, Kohaku," she said quietly, careful to keep Totosai from hearing. The master took the hushed tones as a sign to leave, and respectfully stepped away from the training grounds, heading back to the palace.

"Did you ever want to slow down? Did Father?" Kohaku asked, his voice soft but steady.

"No," Sango answered honestly, "I wanted to keep going. But Father asked me if I wanted to." Kohaku's head lifted in surprise at that detail, and in return got an affectionate head rub from his sister. "Father never expected me to keep going, or even wanted me to. He let me decide, and made sure I know I always had a choice. You have a choice too, Kohaku. Don't forget."

"Why hasn't he asked me, then?"

"Because it took me much longer to get to where you are right now," Sango said proudly, her voice revealing the grin on her lips.

"That's because you trained with Father, and he was too busy to turn you into a slave like Totosai does," Kohaku complained.

That got a laugh out of Sango, and she hugged him from where she stood beside him. Kohaku's frown lifted into a begrudging smile; his sister had always been the one to ease his every worry. "Totosai means well, the tricky old man," she murmured, "but he is good at what he does, you have to admit."

"It's not like there's any point in hurrying, though," Kohaku countered.

"What's that supposed to mean? You don't want to become a slayer?"

"The Silent Hero does all of the work now, our people haven't gone out in ages."

"The Silent Hero, or whatever they're calling him or her, is of no importance to us. Our people will be fine, Kohaku, and so will we." She kissed the top of his head, at which Kohaku blushed gently. "Now run off before Totosai comes back and makes you train again."

"Okay. Thanks, Sango. I'll see you later!" He ran off, looking back once with an enthusiastic wave. It wasn't until he was out of sight that Sango's smile fell to a grim frown.

* * *

There was a protocol to be followed in every court, even one as open and familial as Taijia. If one wished to speak with the King, a scroll of announcement must be submitted. The scroll, marked with a family crest, was passed through the King's advisors before given to the King himself. The process was lengthy and thorough, and could sometimes take days to months to be granted.

Even for the King's immediate family, there was a protocol to follow, albeit much simpler and perhaps more childish. There was a back door to the King's courtroom that leads to a small room, empty and plain save for a small hole in the wall. When the King was alone, the hole showed a clear view into the room, but when the King was occupied, the hole was covered. The back door was a secret held closely to the King's family, and it was a secret frequently used.

Today, the King was alone in the Courtroom. He didn't look up at the sound of his eldest daughter's arrival, continuing to read through a stack of scrolls beside him.

"My father is a popular man indeed," Sango joked lightly as she lowered herself to a curtsy before his throne.

"Not a man," her father boomed, "a King." His tone was boisterous despite its projected volume and Sango could hear the smile in his voice.

"The people are troubled?" Sango asked.

The King sighed and set the scroll in his hand down, his dark eyes fondly alight but tired nonetheless. "The crown is a heavy burden indeed," he said cryptically. Sango's eyes lifted to the circlet atop his head, bright and regal and proud. "There is nothing out of the ordinary today. What about you, Princess Sango? Is something troubling you, as well?"

"Just Kohaku, Father."

"Ah." He leaned back against his throne and appraised his daughter with a sharp gaze. "He is still hesitant about his training, is he?"

"Yes," Sango admitted, "but that's not why I came."

"So you reassured him, then."

She smiled humbly. "Yes, I tried."

"Good. The two of you are as thick as thieves. I'm a lucky father to have such children. Now, what about Kohaku is worrying you this time, Sango?"

"He… He knows about the Silent Hero."

"I was wondering why he said nothing about it. It took a long time. And I'm guessing you're the reason for that?"

"I've been trying to keep him focused on other things," Sango confessed.

"Perhaps there is no need for such measures, Sango. Kohaku is becoming a man. He perfected the Whiplash, after all."

Sango blinked up at her father a few times before she found her voice again. "You… you know?"

"Totosai was just here to inform me of his progress as he does every week. I'm proud of him, daughter. Aren't you?"

"Yes, of course I am, Father, but—"

"Kohaku is skilled. He is bright. More than that, he is kind. There is nothing about him that suggests he is unworthy of knowing information that is pertinent to our kingdom's fate."

"It's not that I find him unworthy, Father, I had just hoped..."

"I know. And I would expect nothing less from you, Sango. I know you as well as I know Kohaku, and I understand. But a flower cannot bloom when kept in the dark, Princess. Flowers belong in the light."

"And if the light overpowers the flower?" Sango challenged, unable to quell her sisterly protectiveness.

"I believe that this particular flower will grow, regardless."

"Why?" The young princess's voice was demanding, momentarily losing the respect owed to royalty. "Kohaku needn't know of struggle yet, of hunger, of the weight that a title can carry. He is but a boy, Father."

"He will bloom because he has a great sister to show him the way," the King said patiently. Sango's eyes stung with the threat of tears, and he smiled softly. "He will bloom because he has seen you bloom, Sango. He couldn't have a better person to look up to."

There was a beat of silence as Sango turned his words over, absorbing her father's response until finally, she nodded and curtsied. "I will see you at dinner, Father," she said respectfully, the lack of noticeable warmth betraying her frustration. The King smiled fondly and nodded; Sango was dismissed.

* * *

_He doesn't understand, he's the King, he has too many things to think about so he neglects Kohaku's innocence and wellbeing! Kohaku is training and he's improved much but he is not close to being finished, he needs to focus on those things, not the Silent Hero, whoever he or she is…_

"Princess Sango!" Sango stopped and turned towards the voice that had called her name, panting but piercing nonetheless. A young priestess came forward, the flush in her cheeks proof of her running hard to catch up to the more athletic princess. The young woman curtsied and held out a long piece of cloth, a bright mint green color but plain otherwise. At the sight of Sango's perplexed expression, she hurried to explain. "Prince Kohaku left this behind at the shrine after speaking with Priestess Kikyo."

"He was speaking with Priestess Kikyo?" Sango questioned, taking the cloth that she now recognized as his makeshift belt.

"Yes, he was. When Prince Kohaku heard the two of us discussing current events, he immediately asked to be informed."

"And you did? Inform him, I mean?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, Princess Sango. I left shortly after he came, to greet shrine visitors."

"So he was left with Kikyo?"

"Yes, Princess."

"I see. Thank you, priestess." Sango nodded respectfully and the young priestess curtsied quickly before turning to head back. "Wait!" The young priestess paused and turned around again. "What is your name, Priestess?"

"Kagome." The young woman smiled brilliantly, surprising Sango with its warmth. "You can call me Kagome."

* * *

Taijiya was particularly renowned for demon slaying, enough to name the kingdom itself after the practice. They were, first and foremost, warriors. They fought for those they love, they fought for those who needed their help, and they fought for whatever they believed in. But the Taijiyans knew that a world cannot have fighters alone; they needed people to fight for, and people to return to.

They also knew how important the spirits can be, despite their work in the physical realm. The Taijian priestesses have always been particularly powerful, for obvious reasons. The slayers routinely brought demons back to the kingdom to use them once more: to turn their bones into weapons, to use their hide as armor, and to create protective barriers for their families and friends.

Kikyo had been one of the most promising priestesses as a young woman, and when she was of age, she was immediately asked to join the Taijiya kingdom as their High Priestess.

Sango had only been a teenage girl when Kikyo first arrived to court, but she remembered the day clearly. She remembered thinking that the priestess was beautiful. She remembered that Kikyo did not smile. The Taijiya High Priestess had a king face and soulful eyes, but she did not smile. Not once.

Since then, the two woman rarely crossed paths, treating each other with respect and honoring each other's importance. They remained in their separate spheres, serving their people and their land from different angles.

Today, Sango sought Priestess Kikyo out.

"Princess Sango, welcome," came Kikyo's smooth voice of velvet. The High Priestess did not curtsy but instead offered a deep nod, which Sango returned.

"Priestess, I hear my younger brother has been here earlier this week," Sango said directly, unwilling to make small talk.

"Yes. We spoke on multiple occasions, whenever he came by. He first visited three weeks ago. The young prince is an inquisitive young boy, with a promising young mind."

Sango nodded in agreement before moving on. She looked as regal as a princess should, and as hard as a rock, too.. "Priestess, I would like to know if you informed my brother of the Silent Hero."

"I did indeed. He had heard whispers of the new demon slayer, and he had noticed the infrequency of Taijiya's own people taking on a new mission. He caught on, he asked, and I answered." Kikyo's detatched eyes sharpened and fixated a challenging stare at Sango. "Would you rather I have lied to the boy?"

"He is your prince, and I am your princess. I ask that you do not interfere with what is outside of your jurisdiction."

Kikyo didn't respond immediately, appraising Sango with a distant look on her face. Sango searched for emotion, an open window, a look into the priestess's thoughts that would reveal just what Kikyo was looking for. She found nothing. The two looked on, each woman examining the other, each woman carefully keeping a veil over her eyes.

"Princess Sango. Please, would you take a walk with me?" Kikyo suddenly asked, beginning to move without waiting for a response. Surprised at the sudden request, Sango begrudgingly followed and remained quiet, sensing that Kikyo would begin speaking when she was ready.

"The Silent Hero is a threat to the Taijiya kingdom. You know this." Kikyo glanced at Sango, who nodded gravely in confirmation. "Kohaku is your brother. I understand your wishes to protect him. Contrary to popular belief, I am not an unfeeling and unattached ghost of a woman. I have a home village. I have a younger sister. I relate, Princess Sango. Any other woman would be praised for such honorable intentions as ours, but we are not other women. You are not just his sister, he is not just your brother, and I am not just Kaede's neesan."

"You are a princess. Kohaku is a prince. I am the High Priestess of the Taijiya kingdom. Kohaku must learn to deal with a threat. You worry, of him being distracted, burdened, even tainted by any news of the world. I will not lie to you, Princess, your worries may come to pass — _if_ he does not receive proper guidance. You will be the one to show him how to be the prince he is. You must."

"Priestess, you speak of duty, as if I do not know my own," Sango replied, adopting the same formal tone Kikyo had used when speaking to her. "I know all of this. I _will_ protect Kohaku, because that is not only my duty, it is also my heart."

Sango took a deep breath, grasping at the last bits of her composure before she carried on. "But you will understand that you do not have the right to inject yourself into the life and mind of Taijiya's prince. It is not your place, Priestess, and you have overstepped your boundaries in this. You do not have the right to inform Kohaku of the Silent Hero, even if you believe it to be the right thing to do. The people are already at unease. Their fears would only be heightened if Kohaku was restless and conflicted."

"Then make sure he isn't, Princess." Kikyo stopped walking and looked up to the sky as if searching for a hidden message within the clouds. She ignored the weight of the eyes intently fixed upon her, its gaze holding the heat of an unhappy princess. "I must leave now. Remember my words, Princess Sango. Heed my advice."

The priestess, true to her word, left and headed to the shrine. The princess stood alone, now looking up to the heavens herself, searching for whatever Kikyo had seen.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 2? The Silent Hero must be dealt with, and dealt with _soon_. The King, Sango, and the King's advisors meet up to do just that.

_Author's Note: _This was a lot of Kohaku — not that that's a bad thing, right?


	2. a delicate balance

_Author's Note:_ I forgot to include a disclaimer in the last chapter, so here it is a chapter late!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inuyasha. Nope, not mine. I am (surprise) not Rumiko Takahashi. Fooled all of you guys, right?

* * *

**Chapter Two: **A Delicate Balance

* * *

In the beginning, the Taijiyans were vicious. They defeated any demon to come their way and did as much fighting as they could; they knew no other way. Even the women and children were trained rigorously to attack when necessary. Battle was all that the Taijiyans first knew, and because they were regarded as the only masters of their trade, they were greatly feared far and wide.

It wasn't long until they learned the importance of balance. It became the key to Taijiyan culture and mindset. All things were consumed in moderation, practiced in moderation, and taught in moderation. The Taijiyans even advice their children to love in moderation, for too much of one thing has, in their history, led only to destruction.

Above all, their work as slayers became centered around this philosophy of balance. Just the right amount. Only the demons who demonstrated a clear threat to the people were exterminated, and even then, they made sure to keep their fighting in check. Their view of demons, however, was a relatively new development, for although they had long cut back on excessive slaying, the Taijiyans had long viewed demons as monsters.

That began to change with the arrival of a small hanyou boy. Years later, after the hanyou had grown into a man (or something close to it), he walked with Princess Sango casually through the palace grounds.

"All I'm saying is that a Taijiyan prince—,"

"I'm not a prince."

"Don't be silly, of course you are. And as a Taijiyan prince, you should have a demon slayer's uniform, at least for ceremonies."

"Keh. Those things are too tight and restricting. How any of you get something done in those rigid clothes is beyond me."

"They aren't rigid, Inuyasha. They're made of the most pliable demon hide, after the material is stretched and began until—,"

"I had the same lessons you did," Inuyasha said dryly, giving her a quick irritated glance that she knew better than to take seriously.

"Exactly. You're one of us. When will you accept that?"

He scoffed but said nothing to add to the conversation, looking straight ahead to avoid Sango's perceptive gaze.

"I spoke with the High Priestess yesterday," Sango commented as the two of them passed the Taijiya shrine after a minute of silence.

She knew that would catch his attention. The twitch of his ears towards her direction was a clear sign that he was interested, even if he feigned indifference and remained silent now. Sango knew that this quiet from him meant he was listening, and not shutting her out.

"We spoke of Kohaku. She… thinks that I should let him grow up. Everyone does, it seems." After a pause, she set a softer gaze at Inuyasha and quietly asked, 'What do you think?"

"Keh. Kohaku's still a boy. He has plenty of time to stay that way until he has to become a man," he answered gruffly. Sango smiled gratefully up at him, to which he rolled his eyes.

She should have expected his question, sudden but hesitant, sincere but reserved. But she hadn't, and it surprised Sango to hear it. "Did Kikyo talk about anything else?" Inuyasha didn't look at her as he spoke, his gaze directed forward, but she could sense his intent focus on what she would say next.

A tender expression on her face, Sango shook her head. "No. Just Kohaku." A beat passed and she waited before finally, she found the courage to say, "I'm sorry."

A disgruntled noise came from the back of Inuyasha's throat at her apology. "For what? You ddin't do nothing, you're just a careless wench."

"A _wench_?" Sango laughed. "I am a princess!"

"What kind of princess hits a small helpless hanyou with her Hiraikotsu to test it out for the first time?"

The princess's eyes widened and she gasped at the memory, as if offended by his retelling of it. "You were not small or helpless, you were twelve! And it was an accident, I was aiming for a tree!"

"A tree you knew I was sleeping in!"

"Serves you right for skipping your own training to take a nap!"

"Watch it, or I'll kill you." Inuyasha flicked his hair out of his eyes and kept his features locked in a stern expression, but Sango saw the faint ghost of a smile on his lips. Smiling herself, she stayed in step with him and began speaking again, her voice softer with the onset of a touchy subject.

"I did mean what I said earlier. You're a Taijiyan. You are, by all means, a prince."

"I'm a hanyou orphan left on Taijiya's doorstep to be slain as a pup," Inuyasha snapped harshly.

"Father took you as his own. You're practically his first son," Sango continued, as if he hadn't spoken at all. She knew his insecurities more than the others at the palace. Inuyasha had been her only playmate as a child, and although he had fought her companionship at first, she was as stubborn as he was. The two were friends, comrades, and although she was older than he was, the two saw each other as complete equals.

"No, I'm not. I never asked to be."

"Inuyasha, you are family in everything but name. You even know the family secret," Sango insisted, alluding to the back door to the King's courtroom.

"I would have found out anyways. Kohaku hates going alone because the room is so big," Inuyasha said dismissively.

She smiled sadly at the hanyou. "I consider you family."

"Keh. Don't be stupid." Inuyasha's pace quickened and the princess hurried to keep up, confident that he had at least heard her. Maybe one day, he would believe her, too.

* * *

A meeting with the King alone was easy. She even looked forward to them. Around his family, the King was affectionate, with kind wisdom and a loving heart in his wide chest. But the weekly meetings with the King and his advisors were the most dreaded parts of her week. They demanded proper and formal attire, followed a strict protocol that Sango was still struggling to grasp, and spoke of a thousand unimportant, trivial details before moving on to anything relevant. The only thing that kept Sango going and staying were the secret glances and winks her father always sent her way.

She still had no idea how he had never been caught being so silly in those meetings.

After speaking of weather, the crops, petty crimes, possible revisions of laws, and a short list of foreign affairs to look after, the room went quiet. Sango was ready to leave when her father unexpectedly spoke.

"The Silent Hero is becoming a problem."

None of the advisors dared make a sound. They had been avoiding the issue for a specific reason: there was no solution to be found for this situation at present. All they could do was wait, they told the King assuredly.

"We know nothing of him. We need more information to assess the problem, sir, and we currently do not have the funds to find him ourselves," the advisor informed them.

"No volunteers would be willing to go find information?" the King questioned.

"None of the slayers are trained for this kind of mission, Your Majesty. This is not just extermination of a demon. They would need to track down an enigma, they would need to be able to sense where demons would appear next. They need to be more than just slayers; they need to be hunters, and we don't have enough slayers who are old enough and skilled enough. Furthermore, the journey is so vague that the few who are would be unwilling to leave their families."

"Of course, of course," the King frowned.

"Why don't we send out slayers to freelance, then?" Sango suddenly suggested. All eyes turned to her and she met them all with a firm strength fit for a woman of her standing. "We have insufficient funds because the Silent Hero is slaying demons without pay and without notification. It is easier for outside villages and kingdoms to wait on a slayer who will slay demons for free. The Silent Hero has become reliable because of how far the rumors spread. Perhaps if we make our services convenient for them without waiting for them to come to us, our kingdom will be established as more dependable and more efficient."

The room erupted into discussion as they attacked, defended, criticized, and praised her contributions all at once. Sango didn't bother to listen as their words turned into background murmurs; the only opinion that mattered was her father's. The King said nothing for awhile, looking back at her stoically. It was when his eyes shifted just slightly that Sango saw it: a warning of bad news. He waited for the advisors to quiet before he opened his mouth to speak.

Sango braced herself.

"It is a worthy idea, and an excellent analysis. But the practicality of it fails, Princess Sango. It is a long campaign that we cannot assure the people with. How long would it last? Would the people be willing to leave their families for an undetermined length of time? We could certainly sidestep the issue of funds, but the fact remains that it requires time to gather the extra money. It would be a long wait for an uncertain endeavor." The King's eyes softened just a fraction as he moved his gaze from his advisors to his daughter, waiting for her reaction.

Sango nodded, looking as somber as her father. "I understand, your Majesty."

And it was true: she did understand. She knew he was right, and felt little disappointment at his rebuttal of her proposal. The respectful glances of her father's advisors proved to her that it had been a noteworthy suggestion, despite its flaws. It was better than most of what they had already proposed.

But it seemed that they were all out of ideas. How would they save Taijiya now? What other option was left?

* * *

"Father, you summoned me?" Sango walked into the palace garden, where her father stood surveying the season's buds.

"Only an hour ago, daughter," he teased lightly.

"You know as well as I do that it takes you exactly that amount of time to make your way over here. All the servants love to see their King out in the open," she fired back, enjoying the lighthearted banter her father much preferred.

He laughed, deep and throaty and free. The breeze picked up, and the flowers bent in accordance. His chuckling was lost in the wind as it carried away the humor of the moment and burst the temporary bubble of carefree laughter and camaraderie.

Both father and daughter, King and Princess, sobered and quieted, looking straight ahead into their thoughts.

"Your plan was well thought out, Sango," the King finally broke the silence.

"Thank you, Father," she nodded, "I just wish it had been enough."

"As do I. But I was most impressed, regardless. My advisors expressed the same sentiments, and hold you in higher esteem than before. You demonstrated a compassionate mind for the common man and an understanding of the people. It pleased them, and it honored me."

"I am humbled and grateful, Father. But still, I worry. What good is respect when our people starve?"

"We were discussing that very matter after you left. There are few options left to us, with our finances in the state that they are in. The past few years have demanded a constant rearranging of where our money goes, and with our funds as unstable as they are, none of us — including your old man — are willing to take monetary risks."

"Is there anything we can do in this world without money?" Sango said softly, her heart heavy and ringing with an empty and wistful hope.

"There are a few paths we could take that don't require it, yes, but they require a greater sacrifice than just money," the King said darkly.

There was a moment between them as Sango registered which option her father was truly thinking of. Struggling to maintain composure, she took a deep breath and hardened her gaze to hide her shakiness. "Is it necessary, Father?"

The King grew silent, and a great burden began to press against Sango's chest. This was the destiny of most royalty, she knew. Eventually, every decision of theirs became a strategic move, every choice available became founded on politics. She had always known this, but had foolishly expected a different life for herself. It didn't matter that she had options; she was drowning in all of them, choosing not the best of routes but the better of them all.

"No."

The single word, curt and strong. Sango reached out and held on tightly, climbed on top of it and used it as a lifeline. "No?" she repeated, still scrambling to hold herself together, rushing to rebuild the fortress that had crumbled so easily despite her care in putting it together. Was her soul so weak?

"No." It wasn't her soul that was weak, it was her resolve. She had no way of knowing the future of her people, which so surpassed the importance of her own. Sango would pass on and leave this world; the Taijiya kingdom wouldn't, if she had anything to say about it. It was the first lesson royalty learned — and yet, she still hadn't accepted it.

Would she ever? Would she ever become the princess that Taijiya deserved? She had never doubted her own worth as a princess before, and now the crown atop her father looked more foreboding than it had before.

"It is not necessary, Sango," her father said strongly, noticing the panicked expression in his daughter's gaze. "Even when the day comes that it is necessary, it will be your decision. It will be your initiative. Do not forget, Sango, that you are a princess of Taijiya. No one will back you into a corner. No one will and no one _can_ ever take your identity and your power away from you."

The words meant to comfort her had the opposite effect of what the King had intended. Sango's skin paled, her heart raced, and her nails dug into her palms gently. A choice. Her choice. With the dire note in her father's voice and the hard glint in his eye, she knew her choice would have to be made sooner than her father wished.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 3? Sango makes a decision that will change lives, and not just her own.

_Author's Note:_ Baby steps, baby steps. I want to leap to everything right now, but you know... we need to build up, one layer at a time!


	3. a princess

_Author's Note:_ How fast was this update, right?

I know I've been spoiling you guys, and I love doing it! But I am a little sad to say that things are probably going to start slowing down soon. That being said, we're just getting started! No, really, we're _just_ getting started.

Also, really quick! I've decided to give one scene in every chapter a soundtrack. You can go find those at my Tumblr (** berryandfriends**), and you'll find all the details there (when to start listening, why I chose that song, etc). Let me know what you guys think of the song, the explanation, whether it's helpful or useless... this is all for you!

_Added Author's Note:_ I gave up on the soundtrack thing a few chapters later. Man, finding those songs were hard, and I wanted to get the actual content out to you faster without worrying about that!

* * *

**Chapter 3:** A Princess

* * *

Sango trusted the sky. She knew how to read the clouds and the color of the heavens. She admired its beauty while respecting its power. It didn't surprise her, that it therefore reflected her inner turmoil that day with deep grays and distant scattered streaks of blue.

The decision demanded of her hung like a knife over her head, held by a rope wearing thin. _You have time_, her heart insisted, _he said not yet._ But her common sense combined with her royal burden drove out the selfishness of wanting to wait and push it off until later.

Later, when the state of their kingdom was so dire that it would be a choice made for her. Later, when the people would resent her for being forced into a sacrifice. Later, when she would resent the people for holding her to that sacrifice.

Her people deserved a princess who acted, and so she would act.

The consequences of refusing to offer her hand in marriage were unclear. Would the kingdom fall anyways? There was a chance that the Silent Hero would eventually fall back. He had only been a widespread rumor for a few months; such enigmas held strong but faded, in the end. It might be foolish to respond to a vague threat so quickly and so seriously. In fact, it would be a show of the Silent Hero's power and influence, and may encourage him even further.

Perhaps, maybes, mights. The truth was, she had no way of knowing.

Sango sat beside Kirara, leaning against the demon cat in her full form. The feline seemed to sense her master's unease and consequently responded by acting as her protector. "If only this could be solved with a battle," she murmured fondly as Kirara purred. The matters of battle were far more comfortable than that of her heart.

"Sango! What are you doing here?" The sound of Kohaku's voice drew her out of thought and back into the present.

"I stumbled upon this little field earlier," she answered, turning back and waving at her brother. "This is your thinking place, isn't it?" she realized. "I see why you kept it a secret. I like it, too."

"Well, uh, yeah," he stammered, taking a seat beside his sister. "But I would have brought you here if you wanted. Sometimes, I just like to…"

"Think," Sango finished for him. Her gaze turned towards him and her mouth took on a smile, but her eyes looked pensive and sad, as if she was facing her own death and accepting it with melancholy.

It worried Kohaku, and although he was unused to feeling concern for his older sister, his instinct led him to automatically put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay, Sango?" As well as she could read him, he could read her, and he could see her growing insecurity. He could always tell when she was troubled — but she never showed it so clearly as now.

"How much do you think a princess should sacrifice?" Sango suddenly asked cryptically, leaning forward and intently staring at the river that ran at the bottom of the hill.

The question surprised him, but he recovered quickly and shrugged his shoulders. "I think that a kingdom can only be as happy as its ruler," he answered, uncharacteristically serious and wise. "If we sacrifice too much and end up unhappy, then our people would see it and be unhappy too. I think that's why Father jokes so much. He hasn't lost his ability to laugh, and I think that's kept him sane."

They were quiet, absorbing the gravity of his words and sharing the same thought. "Losing Mother really hurt him," Sango said quietly, hesitantly pushing at the silence that surrounded them.

"I don't remember a lot of her," Kohaku admitted, "but I remember she smelled like… like bread. Like the kind we stole from the kitchen that one time."

Both laughed at the memory. "She adored you, you know. You're just like her," she said fondly.

"Really?" He straightened and leaned forward eagerly. "How?"

"Mother was so gentle. She reminded e of a cloud. Graceful and soft, but strong, too. She always knew the right thing to say, and she laughed a lot and teased everyone, especially other kings."

"Father said she's the reason he can laugh," Kohaku added to her musings helpfully.

"He said that?" It was the first time she'd heard it, and she surveyed her little brother with curiosity. Of course her father and her brother had private conversations as well, but she was surprised to hear that they spoke of Mother. She had always been so careful to avoid talking of her, so insistent was she on staying strong for the men in her life.

Kohaku and Inuyasha different. Inuyasha had loved Mother dearly but had never felt like he truly belonged in their family. He had grieved but felt no true loss of the mother he refused to accept as his own. And Kohaku simply felt no need to be the stronghold for the family, and he felt no need to lighten their father's load. He was free in some ways that most royalty envied.

"Yeah," he blushed faintly. "They were really in love, I guess."

Sango sighed romantically despite herself. "Yeah, they were. I always wanted that, too."

"Why can't you, sister?" Kohaku asked innocently. "You're almost the age Mother was when she married Father."

She laughed gaily, only a faint note of discomfort ringing through. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm going to end up alone if I don't find a man soon?" she teased.

He grinned and nodded. "It's not like you have many options!" he fired back. The two went back and forth, taunting and laughing until both were convinced that Sango's mood was lifted. But what he said was still true; she was of the right age to marry, and people were expecting an engagement eventually. And it wasn't until Kohaku had long left at Totosai's call that she realized how quickly that time was running out.

* * *

"Hiraikotsu!" Sango flung her weapon with all her strength and watched as it soared, making an almost audible whipping sound as the wind split in its way.

"Hey, wench!" Her focus was broken by the sound of Inuyasha's voice and before she realized it, the Hirakotsu fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Inuyasha stood over it, a sword in his hands.

"Inuyasha, you received a new weapon," Sango noted, too startled to reprimand him for nearly damaging her most prized possession.

"Keh. A dumb flea came with a small group of soldiers to deliver it." A pause. "Apparently, it was my father's." He spoke casually but the manner in which he assessed the weapon negated the nonchalance he feigned. "Tetsusaiga," he said, more to himself than to Sango, his voice laced with unveiled awe.

Sango retrieved her weapon and stared at him instead of glancing at the sword. How unguarded he was In that moment, his eyes a light amber without the darkening of a facade. She knew him well enough to treasure the open expression he held.

He was quick to scowl when he realized what he was doing. 'What are you looking at? You're the one who attacked me out of nowhere."

"I didn't see you," Sango waved away his weak attempt at antagonizing her. "I just felt like training."

"Keh. Training, my ass. You were blowing off steam. What's up with you?" Inuyasha leaned against a nearby tree, returning his new sword into its sheath and crossing his arms lazily.

He knew her too well. Sango avoided his eyes and began wiping the dirt off Hiraikotsu, taking her time to phrase her words correctly. She didn't want him to get suspicious, didn't want anyone to suspect what plagued her thoughts. That, at least, was hers. "There's just a lot going on these days," she said carefully.

"Specific," Inuyasha scoffed.

"I just don't want to talk about it," admitted Sango. "Talking about it makes it feel worse, sometimes." Once the words were out there, clear and precise and permanent, Sango couldn't hide behind the blurriness of her mind, the vague haziness that came with every conflicting thought. Once the words were spoken, she would know her decision.

She wasn't ready.

"Well don't talk about it then, but don't act so depressed because of it. It's getting on my nerves." Inuyasha's fingers fiddled with the hilt of Tetsusaiga, drumming an irregular beat so noticeably that Sango picked up on it immediately.

Raising an eyebrow, she nodded towards his sword, focusing on what he was clearly focusing on instead. "So how do you like your new weapon? Tetsusaiga, right?"

"Yeah, Tetsusaiga. It's okay so far. We'll see how it does in battle," he said flippantly, although the hint of reverence in his voice indicated more than just nonchalance towards the only keepsake he had of his father. At the sight of her dark eyes softening, Inuyasha began glaring at the princess. "What are you looking at, wench?"

If anyone ever asked Sango to describe Inuysaha in one word, she'd choose _offense._ Everything about him screamed attack. "Nothing," she said, knowing not to get too close to the topic. A few years ago, the hanyou had taken off on a journey to learn who he was. He had always been a rough personality, hardened and grumpy and blunt. Upon his return, he was chafed raw, too.

Everyone knew better than to ask him of his journey, and no one dared gossip about it, either. It wasn't an easy task, to quell the whispers of the court, but between Sango's intense stares at the slightest hint of Inuyasha-related talk and her father's clear affection for the hanyou, no one dared speak out.

Even so, they wondered. Even Sango did, especially now that he had living proof of his father looking out for him.

"I'll leave you alone," she said quietly, backing away and leaving Inuyasha to be alone.

Why did she feel like she was losing him on top of everything else she had at stake?

* * *

With no clear destination, it was often the heart that led and not the mind. For whatever reason, Sango's had led her to the shrine. It was her second visit in a few weeks when the shrine customarily saw her a handful of times a year.

There was no reason for the princess to assume the gods would show her favor now, but she was drawn to the spiritual aura of it anyways. It gave her some inkling of peace to know that for centuries, the shrine had remained relatively untouched. Some things stayed the same, no matter how rough the storm. The gods surely knew that better than anyone.

She kneeled before the entrance quietly, looking up with pressed palms in quiet deference. The gate loomed over her, a reminder of the fact that Sango had yet to walk through the entrance. But as surely as shrine etiquette required her to cleanse her body and mind with water, her respect brought her to cleanse herself emotionally of the warring trouble inside.

Or at least, to try. Such things were always easier said than done, but the princess was nothing if not patient. She waited for the swamp that was her mind to recede, and she was still kneeling before the shrine's entrance when she heard footsteps approach.

"Princess?" The familiar voice prompted her to slowly open her eyes and look up to its owner. "Is everything alright?"

"Priestess," Sango stammered in her embarrassment. She hadn't stopped to consider being seen in such a state. "Yes, everything is well."

"Please, call me Kagome," the young priestess said kindly. She looked over the shrine's most recent visitor — or almost-visitor, anyways — with a curious gaze before her chin softened with sympathy. "Something is wrong, isn't it?" Her gaze was steady and deep, all-seeing. It would be hard to hide anything from Kagome with those searching eyes.

"No, nothing is wrong." Sango would try to hide anyways. There was something about the priestess that evoked intimacy within her chest. Even so, she rarely gave something so valuable easily, and so she consciously withheld her trust from Kagome despite the urge to let the young woman in.

"It's okay if there is," Kagome said with a shrug, "I won't ask for the details. But I don't think anyone should try to ignore their feelings. It's easier, but it makes everything unclear if you try to pretend you don't feel anything."

The sudden wisdom reminded Sango of her mother, and for that reason, her heart softened towards Kagome. The two knew nothing of each other, but even so, connected in a way that she rarely experienced with other women. Perhaps it was Kagome's open, honest face. Perhaps it was the confidence with which she spoke, back erect and eyes held high. Perhaps it was her straight forward persistence in her pursuit of Sango's companionship, for the princess hadn't failed to notice Kagome's small waves and casual conversations.

Sango decided, then, to give Kagome what she had been blatantly seeking since their first conversation: her friendship.

"I need to make a decision that comes with a high price on both ends," she confessed quietly. Strength ran like a current underneath her tone and a steady calm was laced throughout her admission, but even so, Kagome saw the dejected bend of Sango's neck — as if it was weighed by a future too sorrowful for any woman or man.

It looked as if she was in prayer, and this, Kagome understood. How many times had she tried to fight her heart's most fervent desire, to fulfill not only her duty to her post but also to her heart?

Sango was surprised when she felt two hands envelop her own clasped ones, and when she lifted her eyes, she was stunned. The priestess now mirrored her own position, and looked into her confusion with understanding. "When I try to make a decision, I find that I often place myself in a higher place than I am. I am not a god, and yet I convince myself that I can determine the way fate falls with one small choice."

"I am a princess," Sango said softly, not in protest but in quiet gravity, "It is my duty to control fate, the fates of my people."

"No, Princess," said Kagome with unexpected passion, "it is your duty to give them hope in their future, not to tell them what their future is."

"Hope…?"

"Yes, hope. Don't you see, Princess? Destiny will be destiny, and there is no possible way for you to decide that. You are no god, Sango. I should know," Kagome joked lightly, offering a small smile.

"Hope," repeated Sango, as if she were in a trance, as if she were trying to convince herself of the truth in Kagome's words.

"Yes. _Hope._"

The word meant more to Sango than Kagome could have known, and it was impossible to discern who squeezed the other's hand first. They tightened their grip simultaneously in a sign of respect, a sign of affection, a sign of a friendship just borne. With identical smiles, the two rose together and laughed sheepishly as they separated palms.

"Thank you, Kagome," the princess said sincerely to the blushing priestess.

"It's my pleasure, Princess," curtsied the priestess.

"Please, call me Sango."

"Of course," Kagome grinned brightly, startling her new friend with its nearly blinding optimism, "Sango."

* * *

Hope, and not an end. Hope, and not a future. Hope, and not a promise.

There was more she had to learn, and Sango knew that she must learn quickly if she was to go forward with what she had planned. With a deep breath, she approached her father's courtroom from its main entrance. The guards parted their ways and one handed her a scroll, sealed with the mark of a long dragon.

The train of her dress dragging long behind her, chin held high and fire blazing brightly in her gaze, Sango approached the throne. At the nod of the King, she curtsied deeply and handed the scroll to another guard once she straightened. The courtroom felt so somber that she itched desperately, a nearly unbearable desire to fidget nervously, but each steady breath reminded her of her purpose.

The purpose that had brought her to follow the formal process of seeking the King's attention.

"Speak, Princess Sango of the Taijiya kingdom," her father ordered.

"I come with a decision, my King," Sango said proudly. She stood with confidence even as she faltered slightly at the astounded glances between the two advisors in her line of sight.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths…_

"I stand as the heir to the throne. I stand in a line of mighty rulers. All of the rulers before me were their own individual, and yet all displayed the strength that has come to define our people. They were loyal. They were fierce. They had nothing but heart. I stand prepared to demonstrate my worth to continue that honor."

"Our people have struggled for many nights on account of forces we cannot control. It is not just the Silent Hero. It is the way of the universe, to bring change unfairly. I have tried to fight it. We all have. The Taijiya kingdom has stood many years alone, for we have always been the world's protectors — not its companion. We have fought for many and believed this to be the only alliance we needed, a kind companionship made through service."

"It is not enough. You all know this — it has only taken me longer to accept. For that, I do not apologize. It is in my nature to fight for all that I hope for."

"But it is time to change. I will accept what I can no longer fight, as I lay down my hope for the hope I can offer our people."

The room was tense, pulsing with nervous energy as the King, his advisors, and his guards all watched their princess kneel to the ground as if she were a warrior dressed in armor instead of a gown. They all held their breaths as they awaited the words they knew would come.

They would rejoice in the security her promise would bring. They would grieve for what would surely be lost. Their souls would weep in unison with the collision of two emotions that rivaled in intensity but stood at opposite ends of the spectrum. For now, they only waited.

"I will offer my hand in marriage as a permanent contract of alliance."

The courtroom swelled and nearly burst — but the princess was not finished.

"However."

The moment stilled.

"I have my share of humble requests to make, Your Majesty," Sango continued, only then lifting her eyes to meet her father's.

"Make them, Princess Sango," the King answered, motioning with a hand for her to rise from her knees to her feet.

In one fluid motion, their princess rose and the people nearly sighed at the grace she demonstrated, already imagining the bride she'd be: beautiful, desired, and dignified. Absolutely, undeniable regal.

"I request that I be the ultimate orchestrator of the process; I shall determine how my husband will be chosen, and I shall be the chooser of my husband, as well."

The advisors prepared to offer their services to the King and offer their thoughts on her proposal, but immediately backed away when His Majesty lifted a hand their way.

"Granted," he announced. "You are dismissed."

Sango curtsied. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The people in the courtroom watched her turn and walk slowly out. For the first time, they had been awed by her presence. For the first time, they had seen her power.

For the first time, Sango left the courtroom not as the King's daughter, but as Her Royal Highness: the Princess of Taijiya. Their very hope and future.

She would never quite be the same woman she'd been again.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 4? And so, the letter is sent out and men from far and wide are invited to Taijiya.

_A__uthor's Note:_ Ugh, finally! We got to the actual beginning of the story summary!


	4. a message

_Author's Note: _The soundtrack for this chapter is up on **berryandfriends** (Tumblr)!

* * *

**Chapter 4: **A Message

* * *

_To his Most Excellent Majesty,_

_I send forth this message in the hopes that it finds Your Majesty and Your Kingdom in safety and in health; and still in favor of the Taijiya Kingdom in return, for we think of Your Majesty and Your People with nothing but fondness._

_For many decades between us, we have sought each other as allies and as, I hope, a comrade; not only in battle, but also in diplomacy. I need not remind Your Majesty of the marches we have led together, nor do I seek to prompt the memory of mutual services given to the other. I pen this letter with the utmost faith in our virtuous companionship over the years._

_Above all, I write this not as a King, but as a Father. My eldest Sango is of age, and is seeking a most suitable husband to be her King. Her request is simple: in pursuit of her hand, all interested suitors are to dwell within the Taijiya Kingdom as they engage in a series of challenges. The prize, Your Majesty, is not only my beautiful daughter, her Royal Highness, Princess of Taijiya, but also the inheritance of the crown I now bear._

_Only the strongest of men and the quickest of men, in both body and mind, will receive both._

_I encourage you, Your Majesty, to allow your son and any other eligible men to come under our hospitality and our defense. I will take it into my personal care to protect him, to nourish him, and to see to it that he is given what a Royal Guest such as himself deserves._

_I bid you well, Your Majesty, and wish Yourself and Your Kingdom long life and happiness as,_

_His Majesty the King of Taijiya_

* * *

"Did you hear, Kiyomi?" the young village woman asked casually, "The Prince will begin his journey to the Taijiya Kingdom tomorrow at dawn!"

"Prince Kuranosuke? Why must he venture so far?" her companion complained.

"Quit your whining," yet another woman scolded, "Just because you have a silly crush on him doesn't mean you have a say in what he does."

"You fancy him too, Miyako," Kiyomi said with venom, "I'm not the only one who wishes he would stay."

"He'll be back in a few months' time," the first woman said reassuringly in the manner of a woman accustomed to settling petty disputes, "But I daresay, the two of you must give up those romantic dreams of yours soon."

"Why do you say that, Chiyo?" Miyako asked, leaning in with girlish curiosity.

The three looked around suspiciously to search for eavesdroppers before their heads came together, voices dropped to the familiar murmur of gossip. "He's leaving to attain the Taijiyan Princess's hand!"

Kiyomi and Miyako clasped their hands together and gasped, the dramatic agony shared between them bringing a smile to Chiyo's face. She wasn't one to laugh in the face of such despair, but her friends' reactions were nothing but comical, if not a little overdramatic.

"He can't," Kiyomi sniffed.

"But Prince Kuranosuke is so handsome and charming," Miyako said with a sigh, "She'll _definitely_ fall in love with him."

"Don't say that, Miyako!"

"Why not? It's the truth! He's gentle and kind and so heartfelt." Chiyo stifled a giggle at Miyako's wistful tone, but neither girl bothered to notice, so caught up were they in disappointment.

"Let us hope for the best," Kiyomi said gravely, nodding her head with determination.

"Yes, we shall!" agreed Miyako, looking as serious as her friend.

Chiyo hid a smile by adjusting her hat. "Perhaps the Princess is not looking for a man like Prince Kuranosuke," she suggested.

"What do you mean?" asked Kiyomi.

"Yes, what could she want that our Prince can't give her?" The threat in Miyako's question was thinly veiled, but Chiyo paid no mind as she often did with her friends.

"Adventure, perhaps."

* * *

_Something just isn't right,_ he thought for perhaps the tenth time that hour. "I don't like this," the hanyou grumbled out loud as he fixed his gaze upon the palace, "I don't like this at all."

"Talking to yourself, Inuyasha?"

Another voice caught him off guard, and if he hadn't immediately recognized her scent, the Tetsusaiga would have had its first taste of violence sooner rather than later. Even so, Inuyasha's claws reflectively sharpened and his strong back stiffened.

He didn't dare turn around; he had let her guard down around her once. Not again.

"What's it to ya?" he growled low.

"Turn around, Inuyasha." Her order lacked the rigidity of an ordinary command, but he knew it was a command all the same. Although his loyalty only tied true to the King (and perhaps his pesky children on a good day), Inuyasha knew he didn't have much choice but to follow.

Kikyo had that special power over him.

His ears flicked down only for a second before he faced her flippantly, crossing his arms and leaning against a nearby tree. "What are you doing here, Kikyo?"

"That's my line, actually." Damn her composure, the gentle coldness that set her apart from everything he knew. Heat, passion, rage, _emotion…_ she showed none of it. All he could discern from her gaze was the same softness she had shown to him from the start — and that was only because he was a hanyou, and she had pitied him.

Perhaps, in the past, he had mistaken it for something else entirely. But he didn't like to fall for the same trick twice, so he hardened his heart and put up his best defense: offense.

"You going to say something relevant anytime soon?" he said dryly, looking away from the priestess and towards the castle.

"Relax, Inuyasha," she said mildly, "I was gathering herbs in a nearby field when I sensed your presence. It has been awhile since you've ventured this far."

"Keh. I don't need to explain myself to you." Golden eyes flickered to brown ones before retreating back to its fixed stare upon the gates.

The palace… it looked so far away from where he stood. What would the men be thinking when they arrived? Would they be intimidated? Would they dare to condescend? Inuyasha's claws dug slightly into his palm at the thought of strange visitors looking down on Taijiya. Against all odds, a demon slayer kingdom had become his home, and he was nothing but patriotic.

"You are thinking of Sango's proposal." It was a statement, and not a question a detail Inuyasha noticed. He looked over at Kikyo and nodded curtly. No matter how the cards had unfolded between them, they were still the same people: she was the insightful priestiess, wise and beyond her years. Untouchable. And he was a hanyou, reckless and guarded, but his emotions open for all to see.

His expression was easy to read, even if he fought against it. Any other woman would have seen his curiosity of Kikyo's input.

"There are no rights and wrongs in these circumstances." She met his gaze and held it, dark eyes smoldering and elusive. "Do you sense it, Inuyasha? Danger is coming." A smile itched on the stoic woman's lips at the sight of him sniffing, but she held it at bay with little effort.

"The air is tense," Inuyasha said, more to himself than to the listening priestess. "It's… waiting?" He sniffed quickly again, struggling to find the right word. "It's..."

"It's preparing for whatever is to come," she finished for him.

"Keh. Preparing for what? Sango's marriage?" He raised his eyebrows at Kikyo. She must be worried, if she was speaking to him about this. Although priestesses were far from strangers in the Taijiya palace, the High Priestess was too busy with other heavier duties to fulfill. They had little time for leisure in the castle, so they made sure that the lower level priestesses were their eyes and ears.

If she was speaking to him, then there was something more she wanted to know.

"There is no way to know for sure, but this is much larger than just our Princess's marriage."

"Is it a threat?" The two both looked away from each other and towards the castle at once, synced in their allegiance to their homeland.

"I don't know." The admission was quiet, gentle, and although it was far from shaky, it was the weakest Inuyasha had ever heard Kikyo. His gaze wavered for a second to glance worriedly at the priestess, revealing his concern for only a moment before a stoned expression replaced it.

"I'll take care of it."

He didn't look back as he began heading back towards the palace. Not once did he turn around to see Kikyo's eyes soften, or the curve of her mouth lift to a sad smile. He only had eyes for what was right ahead of him: home.

And Inuyasha would make damn sure that he would always have a home to return to. He didn't have the luxury to lose it.

* * *

At the edge of the Takeda castle walked a monk, and his heavy robes could hardly conceal the mischief in his step as he entered the village. Passing strangers bowed, and a few nodded in respect, but as Miroku matched every gesture with one of his own, he thought of little but the women just ahead of him.

He had never been able to withstand the giggly ones. They were his favorite today, for his preferences often changed with his mood. Something about the light in their eyes drew him near, and when they laughed! There was nothing like the feeling of knowing that you brought a beautiful woman's laughter.

"Hello, ladies," he said politely to them. The three young girls faced the intruder with raised eyebrows, and Miroku saw their personalities with one glance. One was curious and eager, more flirtatious than the rest. The other was reserved, with a slight condescending undertone in her plump mouth. And the third was calm, pleasant… unreadable.

"Yes?" The curious woman was unable to resist the impulse to respond, he noted. She was talkative, as well. It was a dangerous combination in a woman, to be chatty and inquisitive. Charming, but potentially disastrous. He would remember this.

"I'm on my way to the Taijiya kingdom; would you be so kind as to direct me that way?" Miroku asked pleasantly.

"You too?" the reserved woman groaned.

He blinked. "Are the three of you young women traveling there as well?" Straightening, he tightened his grip on his staff as the light in his eyes faded to firm will. "If so, I must insist that I accompany you three there. My conscious would never forgive me for leaving three beautiful women subject to the evil of lechers and strangers."

The calm woman, her face a perfect slate of shallow amusement, laughed. "Good monk, you do not even know our names."

"Only because you have yet to introduce yourselves to me, good lady," he smiled boyishly, "but I am to blame for that; I've forgotten my manners. My name is Miroku."

"My name is Chiyo, and this is—,"

"I'm Kiyomi," the eager woman interrupted, "and this is Miyako."

"Beautiful names for beautiful women," he said honestly.

Kiyomi giggled, Miyako offered a forced smile, and Chiyo kept her expression steady.

"We aren't traveling to Taijiya," Kiyomi corrected the monk, "but our prince is. He's going after their princess's hand in marriage."

He raised his eyebrows. "The Taijiyan Princess is engaged to the Takeda Prince?"

"No, not quite. She's holding some sort of competition for all men far and wide to become her husband," Miyako said, eager to be the giver of gossip.

"If you do not know of the Taijiyan Princess's grand challenge, then why are you journeying there, good monk?'

He leveled his gaze at Chiyo with new eyes, as if seeing her for the first time. She was an intelligent one, and if he could afford leisure time, he would have stayed to enjoy her company. But with this new turn of events… he couldn't afford to stay in one place for long.

"I only wished to offer my services," Miroku lied smoothly, "for it is said that there are never enough spiritual guides in Taijiya."

"And now?" Chiyo pushed gently, noting the past tense he used when stating his intentions.

"And now… I go to win the beautiful princess's heart."

"Truly?" Kiyomi sighed romantically. "To be a woman with such handsome men after her affections! A girl can only dream."

"I believe that all three of you need not dream of such a situation. I assure you, ladies, that will be your reality soon," he said with a smile.

That, at least, was not a lie.

* * *

Taijiya was no home of his.

But he did return to its outskirts frequently, the wild that the Taijiya allowed to grow freely, where darkness lived and deceit was the common thread of all living things.

It was there that he found it.

It arrived in the hand of a messenger, a young boy who had gotten lost on the way. A dark smile settled over his lips as he thought with mocking sadness how pitiful it was that such a hopeful messenger would die so young. He moved forward and in a short amount of time, it was over.

"How disappointing. You would think that they would _try_ to train their messengers," he said blandly, his voice even and steady. To be a master of death was to look for a challenge. He knew what the end would be, and he made sure to plan the beginning carefully; it was the middle that was the fun part. The boy hadn't even tried to defend himself.

Was his message so unimportant, that the boy hadn't bothered to fight? It was tempting to pass by without checking, but his nature pushed him to be meticulous. He wouldn't have any surprises come his way. He slid the scroll out of the messenger's hand and straightened. Over the dead and bloody body, he noted the mark of a royal seal and raised an eyebrow. Curious.

He read aloud, tasting the words in his mouth, listening to the inflections he gave each sentence. He would know the King's thoughts as he brought ink to paper. He would find the crevices within and uncover the emotions that His Majesty had tried to hide with formalities.

It was no difficult task; he knew the heart of man, and the King was a man with only a crown to hide behind. The words fell to his ears with a pleasing ring and his wicked smile hardly affected the tone he kept up throughout his reading. Oh, how easy it was to sense a King's motives.

The invitation was not for him. The invitation was for another man to respond to, but did it matter? His ears were particularly fixated on the sound of despair, and while desperation was not quite at the same decibel, it was pretty damn close — close enough for him to know. He knew, and he was ready, and he was hungry.

Finally, the moment had arrived, and he wasn't one to waste any opportunities. If anything, he was economical, frugal in that nothing ever went to waste. Every move had been calculated. Every decision had been planned. And every possible outcome only ended with him as the victor. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

His prize? The destruction of the Taijiya kingdom. And perhaps a new wife to conquer on the side.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 5? A banquet is held for all the men who are pursuing Sango's hand in marriage, and Kohaku and Kagome decide to spy!

_Author's Note:_ Fun fact, Kuranosuke Takeda is the young lord (in episode 78) who was in love with Sango and asked to marry her. Props to whoever caught that immediately, because I had to Google his name!


	5. a beginning

_Author's Note:_ Check out the Tumblr (**berryandfriends**) for a song to go with a specific scene in this fic!

* * *

**Chapter 5: **A Beginning

* * *

There was not a single Taijiyan who did not know of the drama sweeping through the castle. Rumors flew left and right, of the princess's beauty and strength, of her determination to find the best man to rule the kingdom by her side. They spoke of her romantic heart that also wished the best for her people above her own daydreams. They whispered of the men to come, the men to woo her, and who they hoped to have on the throne.

They did not speak of the frantic bustling within the palace walls, for they could not know of the servants who rushed from wing to wing, or the King pacing back and forth as he struggled with his duties as a King and a father. They had no knowledge of Sango's nervous planning of the challenges and how she would choose her husband.

But they could guess, and those who could sent the Princess their best. Flowers were gathered from their gardens and sent to her, children wrote small notes and drawings that were delivered to her door. It was said that Princess Sango smiled the same smile every time, bright and warm and genuine.

They did not know of her quiet tears after the door was shut. She was both humbled and overwhelmed by the turn of events, and all too aware of how quickly the future was approaching Only a few weeks after her decision was announced, the suitors would arrive, and she would have to choose from them all.

During the time she had left, Sango mourned, and rejoiced, and planned, and hardly slept. This was the last time she could truly be herself without an eye behind her, an ear just a few inches away, a strategic mind questioning every movement and expression. Once it began, she would begin to play a part. She would become the perfect princess and the most sought after bride.

Until then, she would enjoy being Sango.

* * *

"Priestess!" Kohaku's voice rang with hope, and at the sound of such innocence, Kagome turned. She smiled at the sight of the prince and raised her free hand to wave at him, her other arm holding a basket full of herbs at her waist.

"Prince Kohaku, you've come again!" she said happily. He nodded, pleased to see that the beautiful priestess was so delighted to see him. He had become a regular visitor of the shrine, as his sister was busy and he often got lonely. He was a welcome sight, and a great distraction by Kagome's side as she went through her everyday errands.

"How is your training going?" Kagome questioned as the two began walking.

"Very well! Totosai says I'm improving really quickly, but I think he's just saying that because everything's been moving quickly these days," he confessed.

"Everyone's busy, huh?" She glanced quickly at the castle, wondering how the princess was holding up.

Kohaku seemed to read her mind, following her gaze. "Yeah, and I can never find my sister. She's everywhere. I hope she's doing okay..."

"You haven't seen her in that long?" _She must be really busy if she's not checking up on Kohaku,_ Kagome thought as she studied his expression for any sign of distress.

He did a good job at hiding his disappointment until his shoulders drooped when he gave up trying. Kagome always could read him, anyway; it was a gift of hers, one that he usually appreciated because he didn't have to explain his heart with words. "She's busy, and I know she looks for me, but we keep missing each other," he said wistfully.

"Isn't today the banquet?" She had heard rumors and whispers among the servants, but being a priestess and not a permanent resident at the palace, she had no way of keeping up with the castle's schedule of events. But men had been entering the castle at a steady rate over the past week, and as soon as they were all gathered, Kagome knew the King would hold a banquet to welcome them and to introduce Princess Sango.

"Yeah, but I can't go." His shoulders drooped even lower and he sighed with frustration. A smile quirked on her lips before falling immediately to preserve his dignity; it wouldn't do for the prince's confidence to see how amused Kagome was to see him looking so defeated at not being able to attend.

"Me neither," she said lightly to cheer him up. As she smiled warmly at him, an idea came to mind and she brightened visibly. "Kohaku!"

The prince looked up at her and knit his eyebrows together at the sight of a shining priestess. "What is it, Kagome?"

"I have an idea."

* * *

She had expected to feel disheartened, but with each new visitor in the castle, Sango's hopes heightened. It was beginning. Her optimism was a surprise to everyone close to her, for they knew how deeply she had struggled with her decision. But with the excitement of preparations, and the future that was becoming clearer by the day, Sango had no choice but to pin her dreams on the happiness of her people.

There was no use dwelling in distraught and disappointment. She would look forward and work her hardest to be at peace with her decision, no matter the consequences.

"You are not just a princess," she remembered her mother whispering in the dead of night to her, "You are my very precious daughter, the first child of mine. My one daughter. You will have the strength of kings and warriors, but you will have your mother's heart. I know you will find yourself more quickly than most."

Everyone had loved Sango's mother. She had been a beautiful and well beloved Queen, who was as strong as she was joyful, who demanded respect, who could calm the darkest of fears. When the Queen had passed, the entire kingdom, as well as a few other nations, had mourned. Stories were told of her kindness, the small private gestures towards others that marked her life. She was a grand woman, a great woman, the perfect woman. And Sango was her daughter. She had all of that within her, even if her mother was gone.

With such a role model in mind, Sango straightened as she waited for her entrance to be announced. All of the men had been gathered in the great hall, each of them a part of the welcoming banquet. _One of these men is my husband,_ she thought, _and I may not be in love with him, but I will love what he has given me: a future. And I may grow to love him yet._

"… Princess Sango of the Taijiyan kingdom."

And that was her cue. Sango took a breath — for the dress was too tight against her abdomen to allow for a deep intake — and stepped forward, chin held high, back delicately curved, a pleasant smile on her lips.

_And here goes nothing..._

* * *

"This is not a good idea, Kagome," Kohaku whispered, even as he followed Kagome through perhaps the hundredth door they'd snuck into.

She hurried in front of him, moving so quickly that even the prince struggled to keep up. Without turning around, she murmured back, "Don't worry, I've done this lots of times! Don't tell Kikyo though, okay?"

"Okay," came his reluctant response. She ignored his hesitation and headed forward, clapping her hands softly when she found the entrance she had been looking for. Quickly, Kagome turned to Kohaku with a finger held to her lips as she turned the knob with her other hand, and both held their breaths as they entered the great hall. They snuck forward to the balcony and sat along the shadows, knees tucked tight to their chests as they began watching.

They were right on time.

"… Princess Sango of the Taijiyan kingdom."

Both watched with wide eyes and held breaths as their princess came forward.

She looked beautiful.

Her hair was fastened in an updo unfamiliar to both Kagome and Kohaku, with the humble priestess unaware of royal fashions and the prince unused to such grand appearances. A crown of braids ran across the top of her head, with a true crown of gold rested just behind it. Her hair was tied together in the back in intricate knots and thick weaving that held the low ponytail gentle falling down her back. Her gown was light blue, modest and flattering with a high neckline and tight quarter sleeves. Accents of white drew the eye to her small waist, and the train of the gown highlighted her regal height.

The entire great hall collectively sighed in contentment at the sight of her curtsy before them, low and graceful.

Kagome sharply looked at Kohaku when he sniggered unexpectedly. "What is it?" she whispered.

"She practiced that for an entire week," he explained, still chuckling in between his words, "The first time, she almost fell over because she went too low."

Her heart was touched by the fondness in his words, and she smiled gently as she covered his hand with her own. "You miss her, don't you?"

The prince nodded slowly, staring at his sister with an open expression. "Yeah, but she'll be okay. I know she's just busy."

"She'll continue to be busy," Kagome reminded him, knowing that it was not quite what he wanted to hear — but he needed to hear it, anyway.

"I know. I guess it's time for me to stop being her brother and start being myself." His admission revealed more wisdom than Kagome had expected from him, and she thought for the first time that Kohaku was much more than he let on. He was right, then; living under his sister's wings had kept him shielded not only from the outside world, but his light, as well.

"I guess so," Kagome echoed as she turned back to the great hall before them.

"Welcome, guests," Sango said at the front of the hall, "I cannot express my happiness to see you all today." She smiled at them, self contained and somewhat reserved. Although she lacked a sparkling personality and an irresistible charm, everything about the princess exuded strength. She was dignified, self possessed, and understatedly elegant.

Kagome watched as the men stared at her in awe. She was no woman like they had ever seen before, she knew; for who could ever be like the princess of a demon slayer nation? She was as diplomatic and as well bred as any royalty, but she also had the vitality and the values of a warrior.

"I understand that all of you have come expecting to be challenged, and that time will come. For now, I would like only to introduce myself to you and wish you a well meal. I am Princess Sango of the Taijiya kingdom, and I look forward to meeting you all personally." She curtsied once more, signaling her conclusion. The men clapped with subdued enthusiasm as she was seated on the throne and the announcer stepped forward.

"Please step forward to the foot of the throne and offer your own introduction to the Princess. If you have come with a gift, then offer it now as well. Begin."

The men shuffled forward as they waited their turn to come forward and lay a gift down at Sango's feet. They gave their names and the princess interacted with each one, Kagome noted happily. Pleasant and short conversation, to spare the men too long of a wait, but she was making an effort. She was connecting with all of the men, or at least trying to.

Kohaku noticed, as well. "Smart," he said shortly underneath his breath as he gazed on.

There were princes or young lords, each wealthy of their own right with a great inheritance to hold them fast. There were warriors, athletic and strong and accomplished, with a bold reputation and rough hands. There were even the anomalies, who were treated with the same kindness and respect, although Kagome suspected they would be disheartened at future challenges.

Of all these, though, only three men came without gifts. Kagome and Kohaku raised their eyebrows with mild surprise as the first stepped forward — not because he came with no material wealth to give as a token of good will, but because he wore a monk's robe.

* * *

One by one, each suitor came forward, complete with a gift and a hefty speech of their worth to lay at the Princess's feet. They looked up at her, practically drowning in a throne unused to her frame, with a secret promise in their eyes — of comfort, of riches, of the future he could bring to her and her kingdom. Each wanted something of her, and she knew what it was: her power.

_She would not regret this decision. She would not regret this decision._ It was hers, and she had no wish to turn back on her word. This was the only choice to make, but moving forward with the consequences hurt in a way Sango knew she must hide. She was a princess; she must keep a strong face for her people.

Her face remained pleasant, humbled, grateful — it was whatever the men wanted to see of her, and she saw their appreciation of her physique, her beauty, her vague smile. It wasn't until a man dressed in a monk's robes stepped forward that Sango's expression betrayed her true feelings. With raised brows and a soft open mouth, she assessed him for a second time. He lacked a gift, he wore a monk's robe... and he smiled. He smiled so sincerely that pity struck her severely. It was the lightheartedness of his eyes that set him apart from the rest, and not the unusual clothing he wore or what he did not have.

For the first time that day, Sango was the first to address the suitor. "You are a monk, good sir?"

The stranger laughed, and her heart stirred — for what was there to laugh at? "No, Princess. My father and uncle were monks, and in honor of them, I wear their traditional clothing. I am but a regular man after your heart."

"And what is your name?" Sango questioned.

He smiled again, less sincere than his first but much brighter, disarming in its charm. Her spirits sank with light disappointment at the sight of it; the man wasn't so untouched by the ways of the world as she had thought. "My name is Miroku."

"Welcome, Miroku. I wish you well," she said sincerely. He bowed once more and stepped aside so that the next man could come forward.

It was a greater surprise than the man in a monk's clothing. Her brows came together as she blinked repeatedly to check her vision, for it couldn't be… "Inuyasha?"

The hanyou cleared his throat and shot her an annoyed glance at being robbed of his own introduction. "My name is Inuyasha, and I come to protect my princess," he announced stubbornly, as if he was being challenged in his pursuit.

She should have expected as much from Inuyasha, who hid a loyal and protective heart underneath miles of gruff and perpetually irritated behavior. Nothing could be done to dissuade him, and already she could sense that a few people had already attempted to sway him. But when Inuyasha made a decision, he would not be moved.

"Thank you, Inuyasha," she said with resignation, hoping that no one else could hear the fondness in her voice, "I appreciate your noble goal. I wish you well."

Although she was too far to hear him, Sango just knew what he would say underneath his breath as he walked away. She could almost hear the scoffing "Keh" that had become his signature around the palace, and by the looks of a sparkle in the guard's eye, she had been correct.

The man who stepped forward after him frightened her.

His eyes were dark, smoldering and full of smoke. They stood in stark contrast to the white of his skin, a pale that seemed to emit a glow from within. The man would have looked sickly if not for his build, lean but clearly well toned and chiseled. But something about his eyes — they made Sango shiver.

"My name is Naraku, Princess, and I come to win your hand."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 6? The first challenge begins, hurrah!


	6. a life to live

_Author's Note:_ Oopsie... I can't believe how long it's been... But I'm here now. and even though time got away from me, the updated chapter is here! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 6:** A Life to Live

* * *

Potential often burns brightest at the beginning, but in Kikyo's case, the flame began as a glimmer. A little girl's wish to become a priestess turned into a drive larger than life, strong and fiery enough to push her limits until her abilities were well-renowned. The people who knew her as a child often said they hadn't expected such an innocent girl to grow up so powerful and stoic, but Kikyo had always longed to be greater than herself.

Becoming the priestess she was now seemed inevitable. Her heart was kind, and her ambition was great. The only surprise was her choice in Taijiya over much wealthier, more peaceful kingdoms. It was true that being a Head Priestess anywhere else would be less taxing and perhaps even more rewarding; but the honor of a slayer and the determination of a warrior called out to her hauntingly.

The green fields of Taijiya's outskirts were the closest thing to home she'd ever encountered, and the shrine she protected was far from lavish, but it was sincere, with a straight forward honesty that reminded her of the autumn wind. She had not once regretted her choice — not even now, with the smell of trouble on its way.

She sat on a tree stump, admiring the day, and hardly moved a muscle when she heard the familiar voices of Kagome and Kohaku.

"Did you see her? She looked beautiful," came the young prince's voice, filled with the childish awe reserved for someone as heroic as an older sister.

"She did," Kagome agreed, "and everyone noticed."

"I can't believe Inuyasha showed up, what was he thinking?" Kikyo's ears sharpened at the mention of the half-demon. "Do you think he wants to _marry_ her?" Kohaku paused for a beat before speaking in horrified tones. "Has he been in love with her _this entire time_?"

Kagome's laugh was light, and it struck a gentle chord within Kikyo's heart. To be so untouched by the world was to be free. "I don't think so, Kohaku. He probably wants to protect her. The way he looked at the Princess was more of a bodyguard than a suitor."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't think Inuyasha even likes Sango all that much, he's always telling her to go away or something. Did you see that soldier prince from the West?! He was huge!"

"He was twice Sango's size!"

"Two times taller _and_ wider!" Kohaku's boyish laugh carried through the wind. "What about that creepy one? The one who didn't even apologize for not bringing a gift?"

"Yeah, I forgot his name, but… he looked familiar," Kagome said thoughtfully, a noticeable change in tone. "He reminds me of someone I knew, actually."

"Well you and Head Priestess Kikyo look exactly the same, even if you aren't sisters. So I guess everyone has a twin, huh? Maybe I have one, too."

"Yeah, I guess so! Can you imagine, finding out your twin is the prince of the famous demon slayer kingdom?!"

Kikyo tuned them out as the two began rambling, their conversation full of wonder and imagination and the childlike happiness of playing pretend. She began humming a soft song underneath her breath as she rose from the stump and began walking among the trees.

The men had arrived, and her duties had become that much harder.

* * *

"The first challenge is a race." Sango stood before the men once more, this time in a more casual riding gown that flattered her figure and suited the easygoing nature of the first competition. Her hair hung freely down her back, pinned only in the few necessary places to ensure easy viewing during the challenge. The day was young, and the sun shone brightly, and her moods were still spirited and energized in the face of this this new adventure.

Her smile came easily with good-natured warmth, and she nodded at the crowd of suitors. "Whether it be through the strength of their legs or the light-footedness of their gait, the winner shall gain not only a mark for their victory, but a seat beside myself during this evening's five-course meal."

Neck bowed gracefully, Sango curtsied low before them. "I wish you the best of luck, and look forward to greeting all of you at the finish line," she comcluded kindly. She stepped back to be led to the track where the race would be held as the court herald stepped forward to give further instructions.

"They don't stand a chance," she murmured underneath her breath with a soft laugh.

* * *

"You attended the banquet."

How did she know? Kagome struggled to think of anything that may have alerted Kikyo to her and Kohaku's spying, but nothing came to mind. As usual, the High Priestess seemed to know everything without even lifting a finger. "Yes, I did," she admitted quietly as she attended to her work organizing the herbs.

"And? What did you think?" Kikyo asked, her question more of a challenge than a genuine inquiry. She was testing her, but Kagome didn't know what she was being evaluated on.

"Sango was very dignified, and I noticed she tried to make each suitor feel welcomed," she noted, hoping that she had given the answer Kikyo was searching for.

She hadn't. The High Priestess shook her head and continued to clean the weapons she had only just purified, the demonic aura completely disappeared in a short matter of time. The two were quiet, both focusing on their individual tasks mindlessly. It was a quiet day, a day that had the clouds floating wistfully on by. The first challenge had begun, but that didn't matter to them; they had more important things to worry about, like the kingdom.

"Kagome, we do not answer to royalty. They are not our true masters. Politics do not concern us, and royal matters are as temporary as the public's opinions in our world. Our eyes are not that of any other living within the palace walls, for we look at the greater beyond, and we see things on a larger scale. I do not care about how Sango treated the men. I care about how the men will affect Sango, and the kingdom, and the world. So I will ask you again: what did you think?"

* * *

Her companions weren't as quiet as they believed, but Sango didn't mind; she preferred to listen to their hushed gossiping. If anything, it was entertaining, and watching a large crowd of grown men run and shove each other out of their way wasn't engaging in the slightest.

"Do you think the Princess is rooting for Inuyasha?"

"No, the two of them are practically brother and sister. Besides, what does Inuyasha have to give to the kingdom?"

"Perhaps the King should have been more rigorous in keeping certain men out of the competition..."

"I, for one, am glad Inuyasha is there. He can keep an eye on the other men on the kingdom's sake. He's an asset. After all, he's a Taijiyan."

"Perhaps, but what of the other strange ones? The monk, the dark shadow man? The old geezer? What chance do they stand?"

"At least the old geezer will have to leave after he loses the race!"

"Yes, at least," Sango finally said aloud, her eyes alight with mischief.

The women stammered among themselves, quick to give hasty apologies and embarrassed flustering. The princess raised a hand and turned around to show the ladies her amused grin. "Don't worry, please. I don't mind at all, and I'd be happy to explain some of the protocol, if you'd like. I hope you feel comfortable enough to ask the questions you have."

"How many men will be eliminated today, Princess Sango?"

"The five men who come in last will be escorted back to their kingdoms, with our most sincere regrets and a kiss to wish them safely home."

"Princess, are there to be many challenges?"

"I don't expect it to take longer than a few months, but who is to know? Perhaps that will change with the wind."

The boldest of them stepped forward with earnest, to the surprise of the other maidens. "Are the rumors true, Your Highness? Are you and Inuyasha truly a match to be made?"

They held their breaths as Princess Sango considered the best way to word her answer. For in any other circumstance, she would have been quick to correct the people. Her relationship with Inuyasha had always been purely platonic, and even after his appearance at the banquet, the notion of a romance between them hadn't come to mind.

But as the Princess in search of a husband, it was improper of her to disregard any man in the running. Her father's advisors had been insistent on that.

"I _have_ known Inuyasha for a long time," Sango said slowly, meeting their eyes with a steadiness she did not quite feel. "And I'll be honest with you, I was surprised as well as anyone else was when he stepped forward as a suitor. But," she searched for the right words, "it is up to each man to prove themselves worthy of Taijiya if I am ever to trust them with my home, my people, and ultimately, my life."

"And your heart?" one of the women questioned softly, "What of your heart, Princess?"

The Princess turned to face the race again, unable to keep her suddenly weighted spirits from shining in her eyes. "That is to be seen. But yes, that is my hope: that I will trust them with all of it."

* * *

He grinned crookedly as he shifted the dirt underneath his skin, tough and calloused and prepared to triumph. Of all things, a race.

Was she _trying_ to make it easy on him?

Inuyasha growled softly at the thought; no, she knew that he would never forgive her for that. Every victory of his had been earned, no matter what most people whispered amongst themselves. They always found something to throw at him; his half demon blood, his so-called pleasant life growing up in the palace, the convenience of being found at the King's doorstep as a helpless babe and not the monster they were sure he would become.

Bits of the ground came up in his fists at the sound of a horn as Inuyasha thrust himself forward, past the other men, past everyone who sent him dirty glances and a few hateful curses.

The ones who were quick enough to keep up with him sent their own challenging grins, to which Inuyasha gave his most menacing glare.

The track was twisted and rounded and curved and spiked; there were hills and ditches and even knocked down trees placed directly in their path. It was a matter of speed, yes, but it was also a test of the eyes and the mind, of primal instinct.

Here was his advantage: he was a half demon.

He sensed more than the others, felt more than the others, _understood_ more than the others. He knew the earth beneath his feet; hadn't he spent hours here on his own, angry and spiteful?

He was bound to win.

Inuyasha grinned triumphantly, happy and proud, the very exact moment he tripped.

"Fuckin-!"

* * *

"I… don't know, Head Priestess," Kagome said with a bowed head.

The air settled between them, simmering low and stoic as both waited for the other to break the silence. Kagome looked straight on with eyes fastened to the woman who taught her all that she knew — of life, of spirits, of responsibility and character and the beauty of truth. Kikyo looked away as she listened in search of the right words to say.

"Then I have failed." Her admission both surprised and unsettled Kagome, who knew that what Kikyo really meant was that _she_ had failed — that her answer was wrong, that she was not good enough, that she did not have the magic ability to see past emotion and circumstance that Kikyo possessed.

"I'm sorry, Head Priestess," she said with sincerity.

"I misjudged, both you and this search for Taijiya's savior." The Head Priestess closed her eyes and sighed, judging whether her train of thought was headed towards the wiser direction — or down a weary and dark path.

"Kagome, you will stay in the palace. I will speak with the King myself to ensure a private room for you, and all that is proper and necessary for a priestess to have in her lodging." Kikyo's eyes opened, deep and stern and brown, and she locked eyes with a younger, stunned priestess who had just gone pale.

"But — but why, Kikyo?" Kagome fists clenched and her muscles stiffened as she struggled to contain her indignation. "Have I failed you so terribly?"

"It is not so much a failure as it is a disappointment. I have neglected your training, if you cannot _see. _I had thought that time away from the world would teach you to have clarity, but it has only numbed you to the truth. You will come to the shrine every afternoon, and I expect you to have an in-depth report, as well."

Kagome fidgeted with her fingers. Her heart pounded and her head filled with a tug of war, an entire spectrum of emotions fighting for full reign. It was what she had privately longed for: the chance to live! To look society in the face and be the spiritual, dignified priestess and the free-spirited wildfire of a girl all at once — it was both a thrill and a terror to even consider.

"I… I'm not sure what to say, Kikyo," she managed to force out of her suddenly dry throat.

A soft, somber smile threaded through Kikyo's plump lips. "Do not say anything. You will rise to the challenge; it is human nature, to fight."

"I sure hope so," Kagome muttered underneath her breath.

"What was that?"

"Ah, nothing, High Priestess!"

* * *

"And the winner is… Inuyasha!"

No one was surprised, as the half demon had just about condescended every competitor with the threat in his eyes alone. He stood triumphantly before them, arms crossed and a smirk on his lips, and Princess Sango rose from her seat hiding a small smile of her own.

"Congratulations, Inuyasha," she said graciously, refusing to look directly into his gaze to avoid bursting with laughter. For of course he had won; had anyone expected otherwise?

"Keh," he said predictably.

The women who had been laughing and whispering amongst themselves now flushed under the careless flicker of amber eyes. There was something alluring about a champion, the half demon who could victor over princes. Their newfound appreciation towards Inuyasha had little to do with who he was and had everything to do with what he had just done.

Not that he noticed, anyways. But Sango did, and she couldn't help the short laugh that escaped her lips. Perhaps she wouldn't be the only one to leave this competition with a partner.

* * *

Even for a man with a wanderer's heart, the Taijiyan palace seemed a tempting place to make home. It was large enough to earn its right as a castle, but it was clear that the line of rulers had made every effort to keep it full of life, and even more, full of warmth.

Miroku ran his fingers along the walls with wonder, his eyes strained to admire the fine details of the art gracing the walls. He could picture the parties here, the wine and the women and the dancing! The merriment of it all vivid in his imagination, almost real enough to begin swaying himself.

It was fortunate for Miroku to have the hallway to himself, for if any other suitor had seen the hunger in his eye, they would surely have taken advantage of what they saw: a man from humble beginnings with a thinly veiled desperation for luxury, for grandeur, for the best of this world.

It was a worldly life he led, unbefitting of a monk. But he wasn't a monk.

"Honor the dead by living well," he said quietly. The moment stilled as he closed his eyes and bowed his head with reverence. "I shall live well, indeed. More than that, Father, I will _live._"

His eyes opened without warning, wide and violet on fire. "I _must_ live."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 7? Inuyasha and Sango have a fight in public :(

_Author's Note: _This is definitely one of those chapters that set up the next scene, and they may not be the most fun to write, but they're most certainly necessary! I hope you enjoy. As usual, feel free to ask questions and leave any feedback/critique! I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	7. a friend to keep

_Author's Note:_ Thank you for all of your kind words, whether it be on Tumblr or in your reviews! I see all of it and I'm really happy to know you guys are enjoying the story. Thanks so much, for your loyalty and kindness and honesty!

* * *

**Chapter 7:** A Friend to Keep

* * *

The one (and, in Kohaku's opinion, _only_) good thing that came from the search for Sango's husband was the alone time. He was a teenage prince, which in most kingdoms meant he was well beyond the age at which he could involve himself in palace affairs. But with Sango's overachieving nature and his hesitance for fear of failing, it was easy to slip into the shadows when he thought no one was looking.

Of course, someone was _always_ looking; he was the Taijiyan prince. But never before had Taijiya had royalty quite like Kohaku; he was a gentler, kinder soul, who had bright potential but a slow journey to it.

Perhaps a more demanding father and King would have pushed his only son to his limits, but he had done that with his eldest, and it was much easier to be more lenient with his youngest child. He had the sense to know that Kohaku would not blossom under pressure, that once his heart and mind accepted his responsibility, he would shoulder it at once, with all the ease a Taijiyan prince should have.

Before Sango had changed the course of Taijiyan history with a single meeting, Totosai had been the only one to challenge Kohaku with an unfailing and often infuriating persistence. But soon after his sister had announced her plans, the old man had opted for a hands-off approach with his only pupil, who was both grateful for the space and restless with the newfound freedom he had.

Kohaku wandered for most of his time, visiting the shrine often and finding companions in the beautiful priestesses attending it. Kagome was the only one who treated him as an equal these days. Inuyasha was keeping an eye on the other men, Sango was busy, his father was stressed, and the servants refused to _talk_ to him.

He explored the castle every day, but found nothing new to stumble upon. He and his sister had already opened every door, found every abandoned room, and created stories for each dark corner.

It was the alone time and the boredom that eventually led the prince to his weapon.

"Kusarigama," he recited, the sickle gleaming in his palms. It looked as menacing as ever, with a sharpened point and a weightiness he hadn't forgotten. It was almost unnerving how naturally his fingers folded over it — almost.

Holding the Kusarigama felt like holding onto what used to be, before Sango changed everything.

Kohaku threw it towards a tree and felt a surge of freedom as it made a satisfying _crack_. He did it again, wondering if the feeling would flee.

It didn't, and so he found a new way to waste the hours. A distance away, an old man atop an ox scratched his head and watched.

* * *

"Must you eat so angrily?" Sango stifled a smile. "You're going to scare away all of our guests."

The amber eyes that shifted her way were both annoyed and hopeful. "Good. I don't like any of them," he announced between bites.

"Have you met any of them?" she questioned, feigning a casual disinterest in her tone.

She practically had to cup her hands over her plate as Inuyasha shook his head so forcefully that his hair nearly got into her meal. "I'm staying the hell away from those bastards," he muttered as if repulsed by the very idea of speaking with them, "They wouldn't know the difference between a demon and an insect."

"You're being too harsh, Inuyasha," Sango waved aside his response, "I'm sure there is a good seed among them. There must be, for Taijiya's sake. For your sake and Kohaku's sake, a good man has come to us, and we must search him out."

Knowing that the gesture would make Inuyasha uncomfortable enough to take her seriously and listen well, she put a firm hand on his knee. "You must help me, Inuyasha. For Taijiya."

Inuyasha shrugged her hand off his knee carelessly and didn't look her in the eye as he continued eating. His grunt, the usual sign of his begrudging agreement, was all Sango needed, and she smiled triumphantly and returned to her meal.

"You could have given them a chance, by the way," she admonished him lightly, although she had already expected Inuyasha to show off his superiority by besting them all at the beginning. "The men must be unhappy with you, using your demon blood to defeat them."

"Keh," Inuyasha smirked pridefully, "Someone had to put them in their place."

"I suppose I'm grateful," she admitted, "It gives me some comfort talking to someone I already know so well."

To her surprise, he didn't respond with his usual arrogance and flippancy. He looked out into the crowd, eyes glazed over with thought. "Some of these men are not to be trusted," he finally said seriously, a dark undercurrent in his voice.

"I'm sure." She responded in kind, staring at the group of suitors with a flutter of fear in her chest.

"You don't, Sango. These men… Some of them speak maliciously of Taijiya, and about what they would do if they had you as their woman." He spoke formally, in the manner that he often ignored until he demanded to be taken seriously.

Her wince was reflexive, an instinct that overtook her so suddenly that Sango had no time to subdue the taste of bile in her throat. "Inuyasha, please. I would rather not hear this so soon. It is only the first challenge," she muttered.

"They know of our strength, and of our power, but they also know why you have put on this grand competition. I don't know anything about politics, you know that… but there's something strange about these men. Respect and resentment, all at once… Some of the things that these men say about the Silent Hero are—"

"The Silent Hero will be taken care of. That's what I'm doing now, isn't it? I'm taking care of it." She berated herself quietly for the tremor in her voice as she cut Inuyasha off. She wanted to be strong, she wanted to be confident, she wanted to stand by her decision with all the command and grace of royalty.

But even the ultimate sacrifice was not enough to quell the troubles of the world beyond her home. Even this pain would not quiet the darkness that inched closer and closer to everything she loved. Her best attempts at protecting her family… and still, the Silent Hero loomed before her, a constant threat to the peace Sango desperately craved.

"I'm saying it to protect you," Inuyasha insisted in a menacing whisper, "there are rumors going around that can't be ignored!"

Was the world so cruel? Was fate so insistent on keeping her miserable and struggling for the last remnants of hope? Could not one person have faith in her, or at least the kindness to pretend she could save them all?

She had no patience to heed warnings, and she didn't have the heart to let reality settle in.

Sango picked at her plate with a grace that hid her lack of appetite. His words were harsh and blunt, and she didn't want to hear it. The dining room was vast and bright with the weight of a hundred eyes on them, and she knew without looking up that Inuyasha's expression was intense and frustrated. She wouldn't do this, she wouldn't make a spectacle in front of so many men who may hold the key to Taijiya's future. She would remain calm, graceful, regal.

But Inuyasha's rambling was not helping.

"Stop it," she said, her tone stern as her features remained placid.

"You're not listening to me, wench!" Inuyasha snarled — although he did at least lower his voice.

"I am not a wench, and I _command_ that you stop talking about this right now. We can speak later, but it is not the time."

"When is the time? You're always unavailable whether you're busy or not, you won't even train. What happened to the Sango I know? At least I respected _her_; you're just becoming another one of those court women who spend their time sitting pretty and not having a single intelligent thought for hours!"

"_Enough_," Sango hissed between her teeth as she forced a grin at him. "I am your princess and I gave you a command. I expect you to do as I say."

"So now I'm your dog?" Inuyasha narrowed his eyes, practically shaking with quelled anger.

She took a hearty bite to avoid answering his question, and with a string of curses, he did the same. They finished the meal in silence, and although the Taijiyan princess left the room with a curtsy and a smile, there was no joy in her eyes. Not a single spark.

* * *

This wasn't their first fight, but it was the only spat between them that had Sango summoned to the King's court a day before their usual meeting. She franticly paced in her quarters, afraid to step outside for fear of facing another consequence of the public disagreement. You could hardly keep a secret in the castle, much less a very clear argument between the princess and the first victor. The maids surely knew by now, and the men must have discussed and condemned the hostility of the woman they fought to wed by now.

She had done a poor job at playing her part, and although she refused to show her apprehension while walking before the King and his advisors, her insides were cringing in anticipation all the while.

"Princess Sango," her father greeted her with a nod. His advisors bowed shallowly, Sango curtsied, and they all sat down in a ripple of motion.

"We've called this meeting earlier because of a particular disturbance," the King announced. His eyes were weary although his stance was strong, and he met his daughter's eyes briefly before motioning to one of the advisors to begin speaking.

The advisor stood. "Yes, Your Majesty. As you all know, the series of tests have been set to find our Princess's husband, to establish a necessary alliance with another kingdom, and secure our kingdom's safety. We began the process only because of the Silent Hero, who put Taijiya in an unfortunate economic lapse."

"We all know this, Kataoka," another advisor said dismissively. Sango struggled to keep her expression blank and regal as she prepared herself for their crushing criticism.

"Yes, yes, moving on. The men have been here for only six days, and this may not be the most urgent of news, only a temporary situation… but the Silent Hero has not made an appearance since all the man arrived at our castle."

"You can't surely think that's reason to suspect anything now," one man said, "Why, it takes me three days to recover from a long walk down the garden; even a secret demon slayer must have their rest." The men chuckled, a rare lighthearted moment among the King's advisors, and Sango crinkled her brow in confusion. So this had nothing to do with her and Inuyasha?

"Yes, yes, I understand that," Kataoka continued, "but we have to take into consideration that the Silent Hero has only had two days of rest in his usual pattern, without fail. It is nothing to be alarmed or suspicious over as of yet, but it would be in our best interest to keep this in mind."

"We will," the King interjected, "and we will keep an eye on the activities of the Silent Hero until further notice. But if it is true, that the Silent Hero appears to be on a hiatus because he is here at the palace..."

The room burst into a flutter of conversation as each advisor put forward their own ideas. They would make him a Taijiyan slayer, they would question him, they would imprison him, they would honor him, they would urge him to give up his journey…

They did not notice the dazed expression on Sango's features, the wonder and awe at the ignorance towards her mistake. Neither did they recognize the ambition in her eyes, the pride that her decision had brought the Silent Hero to rest. He was finished. And if he truly was in the palace…

She would find him. There was no other option left, after that. She would put this matter to rest herself, for the moment she had put her future on the line for the sake of her people's, the Silent Hero became Sango's burden to carry. Whether it be through political marriage or her own intervention, _she_ would be the one to bring the worry over the Silent Hero to bed.

Everything would go back to normal. And if that were to be, then Sango would need Inuyasha by her side.

* * *

She found him in his tree.

"Inuyasha!" she called out.

The half demon opened one eye and glared down at her, as unwelcoming as he had always been. Her attire startled him enough to melt the irritation on his face — if only for a fleeting moment. "What are you wearing?" he asked suspiciously.

"I thought I could use some training. Do you feel like testing your Tetsusaiga?" Sango challenged.

Inuyasha grinned wickedly and hopped down from the branch, unsheathing his sword. "Took you long enough, wench."

They weren't on training grounds but at their level of skill and age, the two had no problem battling in the middle of a forest. She pulled her Hiraikotsu off her back and fluidly shifted her posture to a fighting stance. "Don't call me a wench," she said in a low voice.

Inuyasha rushed at her with the sword gripped tightly in his hands, ridiculously large in comparison to his stature. Sango jumped away from its blade with a grace that came from years of practice, and moved to slam her weapon against his back.

He was used to the dirty trick, and with little finesse but plenty of strength, Inuyasha dodged the boomerang. Wedging the Tetsusaiga into the ground, he swung himself around by its handle and aimed his feet at her spine in retaliation. She turned in time to keep her back safe but in doing so, left her rib free for his heel to sink into. She winced at the blunt contact and raised her Hiraikotsu to retaliate, but as only a half demon could, Inuyasha jumped far back and flashed his canines at her.

"Already wounded?" he taunted, "Is the princess already hurt and ready to surrender?"

"The princess is going to make you weep with agony!"

She couldn't do much with the distance between them, and with a sturdy sweep, she flung her Hiraikotsu at him and leaped forward to come closer to him. With a yelp of surprise, Inuyasha moved out of Hiraikotsu's way, and by the time he could start searching for his opponent, Sango was there with the blade of her sword at his throat.

"Checkmate," she announced cheerfully.

With an unhappy grunt that was more for show and less out of true frustration, Inuyasha pushed aside her sword and crossed his arms. "What do you want?" he asked dryly.

It was a tradition of theirs; the winner of every fight would be granted one favor from the other. As children, they had chosen silly pranks: pull your pants down in front of the King, steal a maid's underwear. With age, their demands had evolved from silly to daring, to pushing each other's limits, to get what they wanted. And now, they only made their wishes out of respect to the history shared between them, the long lessons they had endured together and the wounds they had inflicted upon each other.

"I want you to forgive me," Sango said stoically as she sheathed her sword.

Inuyasha scoffed and looked away from her, although Sango could see the softening of his gaze even from his side profile. "Alright."

The two were silent as both retrieved their weapons, and without a word sat by each other at the base of a tree. Sango sat with her legs crossed demurely beneath her and an erect back, while Inuyasha slouched, an elbow propped against a raised knee, the other leg folded under. The shade of the tree kept them cool as they lost themselves in thought.

"I meant what I said, you know." Inuyasha spoke first, his voice gruff and his eyes stern. "You need to know the men who are trying to be your husband."

"I know," Sango said softly. "I was wrong to lash out."

"Yeah."

Sango put a hand to her side and tenderly pressed against the newly formed bruise. "This will make a gown feel much more uncomfortable than it already does," she commented lightly.

"You asked for it," Inuyasha said without remorse, his gaze flickering to where her hand lay curiously.

"That's true." Sango took a deep breath before speaking. "Tell me about the men. I'd like to know what you think of them."

Eyeing her skeptically, Inuyasha put a hand to the Tetsusaiga's hilt. "You're not going to get mad at me again?"

"No," she shook her head, "I truly would like to know what you think."

Thus, Inuyasha began speaking. Sango bent her neck towards him, listening intently, and Inuyasha rambled without pause, not even to consider her questions. The two sat underneath the tree and spoke as they had never spoken before — not as friends, or opponents, or adopted siblings. They spoke as comrades; as soldiers on the same side, seeing each other as equals, as assets, and as partners.

Perhaps, in a sense, they were. For it was a battle they had started and a battle they would fight, to keep Taijiya strong and standing. Their eyes blazed brightly as the two amateurs did their best to talk politics and the wellbeing of Taijiya.

By the end of it, both princess and protector were tired out, exhausted from the depth of their discussion.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and did his best to doze off, but a single thought nagged him until he gave voice to the question burning on his lips. "Are you going to marry me, Sango?" He spoke with a calloused voice and the same straight forward manner he had about him, and when Sango turned her head to examine his expression, she found nothing but a blank solemnity staring directly at her.

"No," she answered softly.

Although he scoffed, he couldn't help the satisfied smirk that sprung to his lips. "Good." The nap that had eluded him came all at once and his response was quickly followed by quiet snores.

It was a great fortune that Inuyasha could not see the fond smile Sango wore and aimed at his sleeping figure, for it would have angered him to see her looking so tenderly at him. Sometimes, friendship was as easy as this: direct questions and direct apologies, a fight to tear them down and a fight to bring them back together. She was lucky, and for the first time, Sango considered that her husband would not be the only person to stand by her side.

Her friends would be there, too.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 8? The next challenge begins, and a small fox demon reports the strange activities of one of the contestants.

_Author's Note: _Changing the Sneak Peeks a little bit to get these updates out a little quicker! Enjoy. :)


	8. when darkness falls

_Author's Note:_ Shorter chapter — but at least the beginning of _something_. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 8:** When Darkness Falls

* * *

The night began with promise. The air was heavy with anticipation of the events that only a select few knew were coming. The suitors had long been asleep, fools in the palm of her hand. Sango sat at the throne and smiled proudly to herself. The guards who stood around her murmured among themselves, laughing and chatting as they waited for the first man to arrive.

Her fingers tightened along the throne as a shiver ran through her. This was the first challenge that would weed out the mere princes from the warriors. For what prince was used to waking upon battle in the middle of their slumber, when the first face to greet them was not of a loved one but an enemy with intent to kill? Which few men knew how to make the black of the night a friend and not a stranger?

She looked forward to finding out.

* * *

For security's sake, the Taijiya palace was often cloaked in darkness. The moment the sun slipped away, it became devoured by the black, a home made of shadows that kept them hidden. As a demon slaying kingdom, Taijiya had many enemies — and although most were demons who were unable to venture near to their people (thanks to the High Priestess), they didn't like to take chances.

They were warriors; a mistake could cost them their lives. As such, nothing was left up to chance.

The darkness that ran thick within the castle at nightfall made it easier for him to travel through, as long as he kept a light hand against its walls for comfort. He strained his eyes to see and took each step with a hesitant confidence, searching for the right room and the right man. The right target.

"I'm on my way," he muttered underneath his breath, "You won't be able to escape me!"

* * *

"This is stupid." Inuyasha looked away from Sango as he spoke, his anger not even allowing a glance her way. Everything about him exuded irritation; his crossed arms, the flippant twitch of the ears atop his head, and even the way he leaned against the wall, so pointedly away from her.

Sango wasn't surprised by his resentment; it had been pure misfortune that forbid him from taking a part in tonight's challenge. Her father was the only one who could be blamed for the incident, but who would go so far as to point a finger at the King? Even Inuyasha, out of respect and loyalty and perhaps even gratitude, knew better than to say a cross word towards him.

So instead, he lashed out against her.

"How can you be taken by surprise when you know what's coming?" Sango shot back wisely. "It's an unfair advantage, one that even a thickheaded fool like you can understand."

"It's not my fault that I found out," he grumbled.

"I can't believe Father let it slip as we were talking." She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled at her lips, to Inuyasha's further annoyance.

"I shouldn't have asked about the fox demons. Who cares if Kikyo conducted a special ceremony to let them enter the kingdom? Why should I even notice?"

At this point, he was talking more to himself than to her, and Sango refrained from answering his question aloud. _You care because it's Kikyo,_ she thought with some concern. There had been something there, and although that _something_ had long since passed, it still lingered in the way Inuyasha held her name from his mouth, and the softness in Kikyo's gaze when his name was brought up.

"There's no better option for tonight," Sango smiled, pleased even now that she had been the one to think of it. "The trickiness of fox demons is just perfect to get these men off guard."

"And what's the prize this time?" Inuyasha asked dryly.

The seat beneath her shifted as Sango adjusted her weight, crossing her legs in an effort to contain her anticipation. The beat of silence that passed didn't go unnoticed by Inuyasha, who cast a curious side glance at her, his grievances against her long forgotten. She looked straight ahead with eyes that shined, and he listened, for he realized without a word that this was no paltry reward. "He gets to train with me, and then I will get to see what he is made of."

A smile came to her lips, mischievous and confident and so unlike the calm and collected airs she put on that Inuyasha raised his eyebrows. "And he will get to see what _I_ am made of."

* * *

"I've got you now!"

Shippo opened the door with gusto that outmatched his size and threw a fire bomb into the room. As the explosion rang sharply in the air, he released another object towards the center of the room without giving his target a chance to respond.

The fire cleared and in its place was a wolf that filled the enclosed space — an illusion, but a convincing one nonetheless. It roared fiercely and Shippo beamed triumphantly, his fox teeth showing through.

His grin fell quickly when he realized that all of his hard work had been for nothing; his target was hardly moving. The nameless man remained standing at the front of his bed, expression vacant and void of life.

A shiver ran through Shippo's body, reaching the last hair on his fox tail. Every demon instinct he had told him _to run_, but they couldn't be right; this stranger was a _human_. He was only a mortal man after the affections of a royal woman. Even a small fox demon like him had nothing to be afraid of, but there Shippo was, afraid.

With sudden panic, he began throwing every weapon he had in his arsenal at his target. Every trick he had was brought from its shelf and displayed at its fullest glory, chaotic and alarming and intimidating — but still, the man was still.

"What's wrong with you?!" Shippo cried out in haste, his emotional stress giving way to reason.

Still, the man did not move. Shippo's body went cold.

Something was not right.

* * *

It didn't take long for the first man to arrive. He was announced with fanfare and pride, and, Sango noticed, the barest hint of surprise.

"The first victor of tonight's challenge!" the gruff voice of a guard rang, louder than usual as it traveled through an empty dark room.

"Welcome," the princess said, unable to keep her enthusiasm from showing in her voice. "And congratulations..."

"Miroku. My name is Miroku, Princess."

After hearing hundreds of names and being introduced to hundreds of men, Sango had expected to have no recollection of the night's winner. But to her surprise, 'Miroku' rang a bell; even more astonishing, she could recall the face to match the name.

"Ah yes, the makeshift monk," she remembered out loud.

"I'm flattered that the princess of Taijiya remembered such a small detail about myself," Miroku said with a self-assured laugh. "Although I do regret the darkness of the castle more now than my first fearful night here, for I am unable to witness your elegant beauty, Princess."

Was there not a single self-conscious bone in the man's body, Sango wondered, or was he accustomed to meeting women of royalty and flirting so shamelessly before them? She was shocked to hear such boldness coming from a man she had thought to be a commoner. Words failed to come to her, and she sat silently, gaping like a fish out of water.

Inuyasha's scoff was a welcome saving grace, a lifeline that kept the room from being uncomfortable. "What a line."

"I am a man of many words, and many compliments to women who deserve them. What can I say? My sincerity comes off as ridiculous, I suppose."

"Not ridiculous," Sango jumped into the conversation, "only unexpected. Perhaps it is your appearance that makes it come across as farfetched; few would think a monk capable of such practiced flattery."

"As I've said before, I am no monk," Miroku said lightly, although there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"I must admit that you're already proving yourself to be a mystery, my lord."

"Please, call me Miroku. I suppose the robes don't help my image much, but I am nothing if not respectful of my father and the men before him. I never had the passion to become a monk like them, but I do have spiritual powers that came in handy tonight. How lucky I am to have trained for years expecting to be a monk, or I would not be conversing with a beautiful young maiden as yourself, Princess Sango."

"If I may ask without intruding, what changed your mind about monkhood? I would think that training would set your future as inevitable."

Sango could sense Inuyasha's surprise, that the two of them were talking as easily as they were. She knew she should be pleasant but distant, interested yet detached. Even so, the almost-monk piqued her interest and he was proving himself to be an adept conversationalist. His forward nature still caught her off guard, but it seemed harmless, a mere quirk that rarely showed itself in nobility.

From the very beginning, he had been memorable, perhaps even likable if she pretended not to mind the incessant flattery.

"I found my own dreams and drive," Miroku admitted, a seriousness that she had not seen revealing itself to her in the slight darkness. "It happens," he said with a shrug. "I only hope my father would not be disappointed in me, if he could see me now."

"I am sure he would only wish to see you happy, my lord," Sango said kindly.

"Please, Princess Sango, my name is Miroku. I would be honored to have my name upon the lips of a woman like yourself."

The night just barely concealed the bright red that spread across her cheeks, in part indignation and another part embarrassment. Inuyasha's shoulders stiffened beside her and she could sense his rising temper — which would have been acceptable if it had been just them two, but in the presence of a foreigner, any emotion was dangerous territory. The two of them both would have to learn to conceal their feelings and thoughts, to be charming and to be masked.

With that thought in mind, Sango answered with as much warmth as she could gather. "Miroku, then. How delighted I am to have met your acquaintance."

* * *

The room was, for a brief moment, still. Every muscle in his small fox demon body was tense, tightly wound and prepared to strike at his target.

"There is no _way_ you're getting past me," Shippo growled as menacingly as he could manage. "Even if you are a weirdo!" With an underdeveloped battle cry, he leaped forward and tackled the man himself, unleashing his entire weight against him.

The physical contact seemed to bring some life back into him, and as quickly as he had latched onto his target, Shippo was thrown aside effortlessly. "So he isn't some puppet," the wounded boy muttered to himself, relieved even as he was tossed around that his target wasn't _dead_. At least now, things seemed normal — or as normal as it could get when you were engaged in battle with a man who had seemingly just come to life.

"What is this?" the man questioned. His voice was light and airy, almost amused, but it still made Shippo tremble. The darkness was fading, as the night left the palace and allowed the sun to peek through, but the room felt colder than it had before. "They sent a child to attack me?" His laugh was cruel and mirthless.

"I've given no amount of effort, and already I've won. Interesting," he continued, taking note of Shippo's grave and fearful silence. He began walking towards the fox demon, whose entire being froze at the nearing figure. It wasn't until the very last minute that the man changed direction and headed out the door.

He walked into the hallway, illuminated by the sunrise that beamed through the windows, but there was nothing light about that man. Shippo got the sense that his target was pure darkness himself, and hardly had the courage to breathe as he watched Naraku move through shadows and gloom.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 9? Miroku begins taking a larger part in the castle's happenings than anyone would have expected.

_Author's Note: _FINALLY, MIROKU HAS ARRIVED!

One quick note, I tend to get a little paranoid about how I portray and write characters. So I do tend to have reasonings and a certain logical thought process for why the characters do what they do, and I usually don't inject them into the story unless I feel it adds to it. So if any of you have questions or concerns, please let me know and I'll do my best to answer them. I love answering questions and knowing what y'all are thinking and wondering, so please! I encourage all of the conversation :)


	9. the rulebook

_Author's Note:_ Shoutout to Griddlebone for being the very faithful MirSan warrior. I always look forward to your reviews and your feedback, and your kindness always makes me want to cry a little bit. You rock, don't ever change (cheesy Lizzie McGuire reference)!

* * *

**Chapter 9:** The Rulebook

* * *

Miroku, Rule #1: _Never __pass the opportunity to admire a beautiful woman._

The sight of her nearly brought him to tears.

The slope of her curves clinging to the black of her suit, the material reflecting light so brilliantly that the princess became iridescent… seemed almost sinful. It was a great fortune that he was not a monk, for the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him were far from holy. He fought them off with a valiance that impressed his own self; Miroku was not in the habit of denying himself the pleasure of a delicious fantasy.

But she was a princess. No matter how stunning she was, Princess Sango deserved his utmost respect. There was a ferocity in her eyes that warned him even as she welcomed him kindly, and although she had done nothing to intimidate him, Miroku had the feeling she would immediately sense any impure thought towards her, and that she would not forgive so easily as a local village woman.

She saw the unmasked admiration in his eyes and pointedly ignored it as she spoke. "I must admit that I was surprised to realize you were the first to overcome the kitsune sent to your chambers," she began honestly, "You don't seem like a fighter, if I may say so, my lord."

"I prefer peace over violence, but a man who travels must be able to take care of himself." Miroku smiled amicably. "And please, Princess, call me Miroku."

"I will call you Miroku if you manage to hold your own, my lord," Sango brought her Hiraikotsu forward and shifted her weight, ready to spring forward. "I am no easy opponent."

"So it wasn't a joke? My reward for winning a challenge is to fight the woman I am pursuing?" Miroki said in disbelief.

She smiled wickedly, the thrill of even a harmless sparring match such as this rushing through her. "We slayers never joke about a good fight."

She flung her weapon forward to whip around him, a quick warning of her approach, and Sango jumped forward to retrieve the boomerang as she ran towards Miroku — who may not have had sufficient time to prepare for their battle but quickly adjusted. She began throwing punches and hurling kicks towards him, and each time, he avoided her, darting sideways and backwards until his back was pressed against a nearby tree.

And so he was cornered, and Sango thrust her body forward with an elbow out and a warrior's grunt… and hit the tree. Miroku peeped out from behind it, winking at her comically, and to both of their surprise, it brought a smile to the princess's lips even as she winced and rubbed her arm momentarily.

"Does this mean I win?" His foolishness would prove to be his undoing, for the comment only spurred Sango's determination and she headed forwards again. "I;ll take that as a no," Miroku said quickly underneath his breath as he began dancing about the field once more.

"I promised you a fight, didn't I?" Sango challenged, flinging the Hiraikotsu at him once he was a good distance away.

He had only to lift a hand to bring the boomerang down to the ground, and her eyes widened. So he really did have spiritual powers.

Using her astonishment to his advantage, Miroku closed the distance between them and in one smooth motion, pressed one palm to her cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist, his face dangerously close to hers.

As a result, he ended up on his back, wincing with pain.

"You think to fight dirty, my lord?" She spoke with confidence but the pink in her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment as she towered above his body. "I am no damsel, frozen with shock at the touch of a man."

"I would hardly call you a damsel, Princess," Miroku said, voice strained.

She smiled at that and offered her hand to him, which he gratefully took. "Ah," he sighed in relief as he cracked his neck and stretched his muscles. "How long did it take for you to defeat me?"

"Only a few minutes," Sango said, unable to hide the pleasure in her voice.

"It is a good thing my pride has never depended on my ability to overpower beautiful women," Miroku said flirtatiously.

"Are you capable of speaking to any woman without flattering her so ridiculously?" Sango asked plainly with a prick of irritation.

"Yes, but where is the fun in that?" Miroku laughed, and she blinked at him, no longer exasperated, but bewildered by this man who dressed like a monk, had the powers of a monk, but certainly was not a monk.

"Since I am clearly an unmatched opponent, may I offer you my companionship instead, Princess?" he asked, holding out his hand gallantly towards her.

With a smile and a heart that felt more comfortable since the series of competitions had began, Sango ignored his hand and walked past him. "Perhaps we should go for a walk, my lord. If you can keep up," she called out behind her shoulder.

"I can only hope to, Princess!"

* * *

Sango, Rule #1: _Do not let a suitor too close._

"You cannot be serious," Sango laughed, "How did he react?"

"He turned bright red, spat out his drink, and insisted I leave immediately!" Miroku said gleefully.

The princess shook her head and giggled at her imagination of it. "How else does one react when a stranger pretends to be his long lost nephew for shelter and food?"

"I had hoped the same way you are: with that melodic laughter and irresistible smile."

"You are a lost cause, my lord," Sango said without blushing. She was becoming used to his antics, his decorative honeyed words, his contradictory behavior. He was, if nothing else, _interesting_, despite how impossible he was proving himself to be.

But through it all, she noted, he didn't seem to be genuinely interested in her romantically. Of course, she didn't expect every suitor to be after her heart; in fact, she didn't expect it from any of them. How could they dream of winning her love when they did not know her at all? No, they came for money, for power, for riches and prestige and the Taijiya kingdom.

So what had Miroku come here for? Courtesy kept her from asking, but Sango's thoughts were free to roam and she found the question impossible to forget once she stumbled upon it.

"I would like to think we've become friends today, Princess," Miroku said suddenly, a surprising note of sincerity in his tone. "And so I must ask, again, that you call me Miroku."

He was nothing if not persistent. Sango sighed and decided to give in, just this once. "Alright. Miroku, it is.."

He brightened considerably at the sound of his name upon her lips. "So may I call you Sango, then?"

"Of course not," the princess laughed, "for I am a princess, first, Miroku. You must never forget that."

"I hope one day, I will." She knew he said it in jest, that he was being ridiculous, that he was exaggerating and flirting outrageously for show — but still, the words touched her, and Sango mentally admonished herself for taking him seriously.

But to think: a man seeing her as Sango first, and a princess second. How wonderful that would be.

* * *

Inuyasha, Rule #1:_ Trust very, very, very, very, very, very few._

Those who had been at the Taijiya palace long enough knew that to find Inuyasha indoors was rare. They attributed his predictable absence from the safety of the castle to his demon nature, for who would ask any dog demon to stay indoors and away from the fresh air, the sunshine, the smell of wide green fields?

He was napping at a tree when the smell awoke him — the strange smell of someone familiar and someone unknown. The combination of the two scents jerked him awake and Inuyasha blinked with annoyance at the attack on his nostrils.

With another hesitant sniff, Inuyasha sat up suspiciously. Sango.

Inuyasha scanned the area, his demon sight working with his position atop a tree giving him the ultimate advantage. After a mere few seconds, he saw the two from a distance, and began heading towards them without a second thought. After all, he was half dog demon; he couldn't help it if he was overprotective sometimes.

The two didn't notice his arrival, talking amongst themselves so casually, Inuyasha suspected Miroku of using manipulative spiritual powers on her. "Hey, Sango! What are you doing without the Hiraikotsu? I thought you were supposed to be fighting him, not flirting with him," he said accusingly from above them.

"Inuyasha!" She ignored his question and waved up at him. "Come, meet Miroku."

"Nice to meet you," the fake monk greeted.

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes and jumped down from his spot, landing on Sango's other side. "Yeah, yeah. Kohaku is looking for you, by the way," he lied. It was a harmless one, meant to push the princess towards the little brother she hadn't been able to see in so long. She was consumed with her duties, and for once, Inuyasha was the first to notice Kohaku's loneliness.

The prince deserved to see his sister once in awhile, Inuyasha supposed. Besides, he had to ask the monk a question.

"He is?" Sango blinked.

"Yep. If you don't believe me, go find him and ask him yourself," Inuyasha said as he turned up his nose, offended that she had questioned his lie.

"I will, I will." The princess turned to Miroku and smiled apologetically up at him. "I'm sorry I have to leave you without escorting you back to the palace, Miroku, but Inuyasha will show you there in my place. I had a lovely afternoon with you, and I hope to see you this evening at supper." She curtsied quickly and left the two, knowing they were watching her leave with a regal gait.

Once she was out of sight, royal guards in tow, Inuyasha turned a set of hostile eyes towards Miroku. Refusing to speak first, he waited, the air tense and frozen with the heat of his gaze.

"So you're the infamous Inuyasha," he said with a charm that didn't quite work so well on men — especially half demon ones.

Ignoring his feeble attempt at conversation, Inuyasha went ahead with his suspicions and spoke bluntly. "Why are you here? You smell of multiple villages, so many that you must have only stayed in one place for a week or two at a time for months, maybe years. So why are you at Taijiya?"

Miroku sighed and began walking forward. He looked to the sky before them as he weighed his options, and considered just how to respond to his insightful questions. "I'm looking for someone," he finally said solemnly after a short silence.

"Who?" Inuyasha demanded, keeping pace with Miroku. "You think he's here? Is he dangerous? Who is he?"

"I don't know his name. All I know is that I must find him."

"Why?" Inuyasha asked suspiciously. "Is he your lover boy?"

"No," Miroku shook his head, ignoring the audacity of Inuyasha's assumption. "I must… question him. He has information I need to know."

"Why would he be here? He into demon slayers or something?"

Was there anything he couldn't see? Miroku sighed, already tired of the interrogation (he'd much rather be flirting with a pretty face). "I've been tracking him long enough to know that he's attracted to large events such as these. Besides… I can sense some great power in this kingdom. Something large is going to take place here, and I know that he will be here to see it. Or to cause it," he said ominously.

"_What_?" His interest piqued, Inuyasha looked upon Miroku with an intensity that resembled anger so closely that Miroku felt a quick stab of fear. For after all, he was only a mortal; even with his spiritual powers, he could hardly defend himself adequately against sharp claws and youkai abilities. "Something dangerous, then?"

"I can't say. All I know is that a great force within Taijiya is stirring, and that the man I am searching for is here to see it through."

Miroku suddenly felt a hand at his throat and a tree pressed against his back, and he sputtered with shock and stared into Inuyasha's angered gaze with some rising degree of panic.

"You can sense this? You're not lying?" he asked, his voice lowered and gravelly and hinting at a growl.

"Yes," Miroku managed to choke out, "I can. And I'm not lying."

The half demon's grip loosened and the makeshift monk drew in a deep, gasping breath once he was released from Inuyasha's grasp. He had just gathered his composure and straightened when Inuyasha said, "You're useful, then. What else do you sense?"

The truth came out of him without a moment of hesitation, most likely due to the fact that Miroku had little desire to be pinned to a tree and choked to death again. "There is a negative presence here in Taijiya, although I can't be sure if it's a recent addition or if it has been here for some time. It's… subdued, but it's connected to something greater, something more complicated… and that's all I can sense," he admitted, slightly ashamed that he had nothing more concrete to offer.

As if he knew how Miroku was feeling, Inuyasha said gruffly, "It's enough. That's all I need, to know that there's something going on. Now we can get more people to figure out who's behind it. And we're going to need your help," he added.

"My help? I'm only another suitor, and Taijiya has extremely powerful priestesses with more spiritual prowess than I," Miroku said incredulously.

"Well, if this man you're after is involved like you say he is, then you know the most about him. But if you do one thing that puts Taijiya or any Taijiyan in danger, you are dead." Inuyasha leered close enough so that Miroku saw his eyes flash with a grave threat, and his intensity made the man gulp. "And I will kill you myself, slowly and painfully and mercilessly."

"I understand," Miroku croaked, feeling as if an invisible hand was pressing against his throat once more.

"Good. Then we agree on something." Inuyasha looked to his left, leveling his gaze with a shrine nearby. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"Yes, you idiot, now. Are you coming?"

"Well, you can't expect me to keep up with a half demon…!"

* * *

Kagome, Rule #1: _Listen to your instincts, and be honest with your heart._

"Excuse me, you really shouldn't come to the shrine without first — oh, Inuyasha!" The sight of him, who she had only seen from a distance, surprised her, and seeing him so close… he was much taller than Kagome had expected. She blinked, trying to clear her vision as if it would turn those eyes to a more common color, but they remained the deep amber, a shade of gold that she had never seen before.

"How do you know my name?" he snapped, unnerved not only by her greeting but also by her appearance. She had a striking resemblance to the woman he assumed she served. _It's only because of the priestess clothing, _he assured himself, recovering quickly and crossing his arms as he stared down at her.

"I… I just… How can I help you?" Kagome stammered, doing her best to gather her composure as quickly as Inuyasha had.

"I wish I could tell you, Priestess, but I've been dragged here myself. But if I had known we were headed for such a beautiful young woman as yourself, I would have come here on my own voluntarily," Miroku spoke up from beside Inuyasha, his words coated with sugar and his eyes deep with quick affection.

"Shut up, you stupid monk," Inuyasha snapped, looking past Kagome and searching for another priestess behind her. "Where is Kikyo?"

"She is overlooking the boundaries of Taijiya," Kagome answered, smoothing down her skirt and beginning to feel more like herself. Seeing him in person was so much different than spying from afar — not on him, but on events that he happened to be taking a part in. But maybe her eyes _had_ been attracted to the silver hair. It was such a unique color, it wasn't her fault!

And now that he was so close to her, in person… those ears were much more fascinating than the hair color. Why, she hadn't noticed that before…

"Are you listening?" The impatience in Inuyasha's voice forced Kagome out from her wandering thoughts and she physically shook her head to return to the present. He took that as an answer to his question, and he responded by yelling, "You idiot, you're not even listening!"

"I'm sorry, I was trying to remember when Kikyo said she would be returning!" Kagome lied indignantly, his anger with her igniting her own anger towards him.

"Keh. Fine. Come on, we'll come later," Inuyasha said as he turned to leave.

"Hold on, we have a priestess already, don't we? I'm confident that she is as capable as she is beautiful," Miroku said reasonably. "What is your name, Priestess?"

"Kagome." What was with him? He was charming, and she should be flattered that such a handsome man was speaking so highly of her, but everything he said had a false ring to it, one that she didn't quite buy into.

"Priestess Kagome, my name is Miroku. Do you happen to know anything of the negative energy surrounding Taijiya at this time?"

The seriousness of his question brought her temper to a simmer. "Well… I don't know..." Kagome said hesitantly, feeling suddenly unsure of herself now that she was being asked outright about her intuitions.

"Anything would be of use, Priestess. Even if you do not feel confident in it, whatever you feel is valid and has spiritual backing, for you are a woman of spiritual power," Miroku reassured her.

It was enough to get Kagome talking, just as he had intended. "I don't _know_ anything, but I do know that ever since the Silent Hero has come about, I've felt uneasy and strange. Almost foreboding, like a dark storm cloud is heading our way."

"_I_ could have told you that," Inuyasha said with exasperation.

Miroku hushed him with a boldness that had the hanyou knitting his brows together angrily. Why, that monk had been about to piss in his pants when there wasn't a woman around to protect him—!

"Go on, Priestess."

"I went to the fields that the Silent Hero was rumored to have visited and rid of demons once," Kagome admitted quietly. The two men quieted quickly at her confession, stunned that such a young woman had the courage to venture so far by herself, most likely without supervision or permission. "There was a purple haze to the air, like everyone said… but it smelled like decay, and it was almost sinister, like it could sting your skin if you stayed in the area too long."

A silence fell over the three as they considered her words. It was Miroku who spoke first, gently as if s speaking too loudly would erase the revelation. "Do you feel it now, Priestess?"

She considered the thought for a moment before shaking her head emphatically. "No, I don't. But I do feel something rising in Taijiya, something dark. Something frightening." Her shoulders shuddered delicately as she dwelled on it. "I don't like to think about it."

"No young maiden should," Miroku said with a pained smile. "Thank you, Priestess. You've helped us, more than you know." He took Kagome's hands and pressed his palms over them, holding their enclasped fingers to his chest. "And if an honorable woman like you ever bore my children, then I would be the—"

He was interrupted by a resounding _smack!_ of a hanyou's palm against the back of his head. "Come on, idiot." By the time Miroku sheepishly murmured a goodbye and began to retreat, Inuyasha was already a few feet ahead. The two of them left a bright red and stunned Kagome behind, frozen by not the monk's perverted sense of boldness, but the curiousity in Inuyasha's eyes when he looked back as he left.

She had a feeling she would see him again, and a small smile fluttered at her lips at the thought. Maybe she wouldn't mind that. But that Miroku… next time, she'd prefer if he was left behind.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 10? Well, for one, Inuyasha gives Kagome a tour of the castle as another puzzle piece falls into the mix.


	10. a wild heart

_Author's Note:_ Happy AU week of Inuvember! Of course I had to update a little earlier than I usually do in honor of this great great time. If you're not following my Tumblr ( princessango, which, coincidentally, is titled wild heart too)... you should. I'm doing a little poll for AU week and you can check all of that out there (and if you can't find it, it's under the tag #inuvember).

* * *

**Chapter 10:** A Wild Heart

* * *

It was the first large gathering of demons inside the palace, and the princess was glad for it. Her decision was meant to inspire change such as these: an arranged marriage, safety for the kingdom, and even a hesitant alliance between demons and humans.

Already, the people spoke highly of the princess, that she was to be a revolutionary queen, that she would push Taijiya to greatness. Their support gave Sango strength on many nights, when sleep evaded her and despair hid in every corner of her bedroom.

She stood now in front of a crowd of fox demons, all of them looking up at her solemnly. Inuyasha's stiff figure beside her tempted Sango to smile at his discomfort, but she matched their expression and nodded deeply at them with respect.

"I would like to thank you personally for your assistance. You have been instrumental through this process, I assure you, and Taijiya will forever remember this act of kindness between the fox demons and the demon slayers. Your help has spoken volumes to our people and to the royal family… and we will not forget." She offered a confident smile, making eye contact with as many of them as she could. "I won't let them forget. I am truly thankful."

Sango curtsied deeply before them, and their leader came forward. With all nine tails displayed grandly behind him, he took her hand and bowed. "The fox demon tribe looks forward to our newfound alliance, Princess Sango. I know you were the one to arrange for all this, and I expect that you fought for it, as well. We thank you, for your faith. You have given us new hope."

His words brought her great pleasure, and her smile was as genuine as it was wide. "It has been an honor, Hoshi."

With a few more words, Sango made her leave and Inuyasha remained behind, his erect figure appearing more intimidating than he meant. He didn't like playing this role: the public figurehead, the half demon who was miraculously a Taijiya noble. But he would, if it ensured his country's safety.

He watched them leave, and he watched one in particular stay behind. With a quirk in his brow, Inuyasha slightly bared his fangs as warning. "Any reason you're not leaving with them?" he challenged.

"I..." The fox demon was small, with only two tails behind him, but Inuyasha had to give him credit for not shaking in the face of his flashing eyes. He was hesitant, and he was frightened, but he stood steadily despite his trepidation.

"Spit it out," Inuyasha said impatiently.

The fox demon raised his eyes to Inuyasha's, and he gulped. "I have something to report."

"Okay. Then do it."

"Yes, sir..." The fox demon took a small step forward and straightened his back, holding his hands to his sides firmly. He took a moment to gather his courage, and said, in a practiced voice, "I reported to my station and faced the target. The target reacted to my attacks by standing out of bed, but stayed in the same position for the rest of the night. It wasn't until I physically tackled him myself that the target began moving and speaking, like…" The strength in his tone wavered and the fox demon cleared his throat as if that would rid him of his fear. "Like he had just come to life. I thought it was strange, and that it seemed worth… reporting," he trailed off, noticing the look on Inuyasha's face.

"Who was your target?" Inuyasha demanded, his fingers curled into fists tightly at his side.

"I don't know the name, I only know the room number!" the fox demon cried in a panic, convinced that he would be torn apart by those dog demon fangs and claws.

"Well, what was the room number!?"

"Room… Room 53!"

"Okay." Inuyasha seemed to relax as he exhaled deeply. "What's your name again, fox demon?"

"Shippo."

"Shippo. You're going to stay in the castle until we figure this out."

"But… I need to—,"

"Under the command of Taijiya, you will be staying at the palace until further notice. We will alert the fox demon tribe of your honorable services to the kingdom, and rely on you to maintain and protect the newfound alliance between our two nations. Is this understood?"

Shippo sighed and nodded slowly. "Yes..."

"Good. I'll have someone come in here to show you to your new quarters."

Shippo wiped at his damp forehead and slumped his shoulders the moment Inuyasha turned his back and left. "I'm only a kid," he mumbled to himself, "and I'm in charge of an entire alliance?!"

* * *

The palace seemed smaller when it had only been a place; somewhere to visit, somewhere to wander, somewhere to run errands at. Kagome marveled at the enormity of the castle as she followed her guide dutifully, a modest yellow bag hanging off of her back.

"What an unusual color," the guide noted, pinching the material tenderly.

"It is a relic from my hometown," Kagome explained, a fondness in her voice reserved not for the man who would show her to her room but the family she had left behind. "We used the dye from the flowers that grew in our garden. They were wild and lovely."

"As are you, I am sure." He smiled good-naturedly, prompting a laugh from the young priestess.

"Perhaps, although I'm not sure 'wild' is an apt description of a priestess."

"Are not all beautiful things wild?" he questioned wisely, "The things we can control in this life are not as precious as the things we seek to understand."

The two fell into a silence at that, appreciative and thoughtful. He wasn't wrong, but something about his words didn't settle with peace in her soul. There was something missing, a key aspect that it lacked. Kagome could hear the absence of the complete truth, and so she kept quiet, too intimidated by the palace's immensity to think out loud.

The guide came to a sudden stop and gestured towards a plain door at the end of the hallway. "Your quarters, Priestess."

Kagome smiled and thanked him graciously, and moved to open the door as he made his exit. She paused as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight, and with a bright smile, released the doorknob and walked cheerfully down the hall.

She'd much rather explore than get settled in.

* * *

"Where the hell is room 53?" Inuyasha muttered. He should know the castle like the back of his hand; he'd grown up here, for heaven's sake! This mysterious room was nowhere to be found, and he grumbled to himself as he wandered and searched and continued to fail.

A girlish voice behind him pulled him away from his mission. "Inuyasha? Is that you?"

He turned his head, irritated at the distraction, and stared blankly at a smiling Kagome. "Inuyasha, it is you. Hello, how are you doing?"

"What are you doing here with that hideous bag?" Inuyasha asked bluntly.

She blinked at him, taken aback by his rudeness, and put a hand to the yellow fabric. "_Hideous?_" she repeated.

"It hurts to even look at it," Inuyasha said with fascination, amazed by the color even as he insulted it.

Kagome gripped her bag protectively, glaring at him. "This bag was made for me by my mother! How dare you."

Bored with the turn of conversation, Inuyasha returned to his previous task of studying room numbers. "Whatever."

"What are you even doing? Spying? Sneaking around?" She walked briskly to catch up to him and intercepted his path, forcing him to look into her indignant face.

With a roll of his eyes, Inuyasha moved to push past her, but she was quicker than he anticipated and she continued to block his walkway.

"As a priestess of Taijiya, I'm _insisting_ that you answer me. Don't make me command you, or even worse, force you," she threatened.

"Keh. If I can handle Kikyo, I can handle you," Inuyasha rebuffed as he pushed her out of his way with a hand.

"Yeah, well, that's because she always went easy on you!" Kagome retaliated, a burst of temper bringing her to shout words she would later regret.

"What do _you_ know?" Inuyasha said spitefully, mood turned from sour to bitter at the topic of conversation. "You're her follower, her little helper, useless without her strength to cover up your pathetic excuse of power."

She was stunned, and her face paled. He struggled to hold onto the feeling of _she deserved it_ as he fought off the feeling of _oh shit, I fucked up, oh shit oh shit_. Anger, he could manage; fury, he was familiar with; but the mixed reaction of indignation and hurt and shock on Kagome's face made him want to run and flee.

After all, he knew the pain that showed itself clearly on Kagome's face. He had once been very good friends with it. But still, even as he felt a pang of regret, Inuyasha could say nothing. His tongue was as thick as his skull, and he could only watch as she digested the knives in his words.

Inuyasha could not look away as Kagome took a moment to swallow the sting of his insults and slowly raised her eyes to met his gaze. "Are you looking for anything specific?" she questioned.

She looked… calm. She had chosen to ignore his harshness with only a minute to gather herself and respond politely. It left him speechless and staring, searching for a hint of irritation in her eyes.. Disoriented enough to respond honestly, he said, "I'm searching for a room."

"I've been wandering about the castle for an hour now. I may be of help."

"I've lived here for my entire life," Inuyasha said skeptically, "How would you know a room that I don't?"

"A fresh set of eyes might help. I don't have any spiritual abilities, though, so I can't be of any service in that aspect," she deadpanned.

Inuyasha struggled not to physically cringe at her monotone._ Shit, she's still mad. How is she hiding it so well?!_ "Fine," he surrendered guiltily, "I'm looking for room 53."

"Let's go." Kagome walked briskly towards the direction he had been heading, and Inuyasha sighed as he followed.

Now he had _two _missions to take care of today.

* * *

It had only been twenty minutes, and already, they had been the most excruciating twenty minutes of his life.

Her silence was piercing, almost tangible even without words. Her quiet rage didn't scare him; Inuyasha could handle anger, he could handle fights and punches and screaming. But her wordless, blank gaze made everything feel thick with tension, and Inuyasha didn't like it.

_If she has something to say, then she can damn well say it,_ he thought grumpily for about the eighth time since she had decided to join him.

He felt pressured to say something, like a balloon was deflating in his chest and the only way to get it floating again was to break the ice, to make her look less… _dead._ He hadn't meant to piss her off this bad (although who did she think she was, bringing up Kikyo like her name was a weapon?). But it made his skin crawl, it made him feel itchy, knowing that she was helping him even though she must hate him now.

"You don't have to be here," Inuyasha finally said as casually as he could. "You can go off and do whatever girls do and I'll keep on looking."

"I'm not just a girl," Kagome said quietly, "I'm a priestess. If you're looking for something so specific, then it must be important to Taijiya's safety. I know that much about you."

"It is. Important, I mean."

"Why are you looking for room 53? You owe me that much."

The worst part of this was that she was right. Inuyasha sighed and didn't look at her as he explained what Shippo had told him, not noticing her eyes widening as he continued to speak.

"So room 53 might not be some clue, but it's something." Finished with his spiel, Inuyasha raised his eyes to hers and immediately recoiled at her expression. "What, why do you look like that?"

"Because I think I know what's happening," Kagome said without irritation at his tactless phrasing. "But I need to talk to Miroku, first."

"You want to talk to that pervert? Why?"

"Because he knows more than you do about spirits and demons, and apparently, he knows more than I do, too," she said crossly.

"Oh, let that go, will you?! I was pissed, that's all!"

"I'll forgive you _if_ you take me to him at once."

"That's harder than it sounds," Inuyasha warned her seriously. "Women are not allowed in those chambers, _especially_ priestesses. You would be removed from your station for being found in a man's room, _alone_."

"I won't be alone, you'll be there," she said with the innocence of a girl only recently entangled in palace affairs. Her naivety made him scoff, and Kagome frowned. "Look, I need to talk to Miroku. If this is what I think it is, then Taijiya's in more trouble than you think," she said darkly.

That certainly got his attention, and Inuyasha's ears straightened at her implication. "Are you sure it's that serious?"

"Yes."

Well, that certainly gave him no choice. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, eyes closing as he contemplated the best way to sneak a woman, a priestess no less, into Miroku's room. It was a necessary risk, and if he had to choose between Kagome's job and Taijiya's wellbeing, there was no contest at all.

He huffed irritatedly and said, "Leave it to me, I'll find out who's stationed in room 53 from an idiot official." A moment of hesitation passed before he leaned in and murmured secretively, "Meet me here tonight, as soon as the moon rises." She nodded her understanding up at him, and Inuyasha looked down at her gravely. "You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone. Not Kikyo, not Kohaku." He paused. "Not even Sango."

"I won't." She took a step back and bowed swiftly. "See you then."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 11? Well. Inuyasha and Kagome go see Miroku. Piggybacks happen. Some bonding. More about Miroku is revealed.

_Author's Note:_ Okay, confession time. This is not following the outline I had at all. I still have a general timeline figured out, but my chapter-by-chapter plan? Nope, out the window. These characters have minds of their own, and I'm being dragged around. So sometimes, these chapter hints are guesses. But the major plot points are still pretty set in stone, and I'll let you guys know if that changes (because if it does, I may need an extra week to replan).

Enjoy your week, guys! These next two chapters are pretty heavy on the InuKag — so enjoy it while you can, because I don't know when the heavy InuKag chapters will come next!


	11. a deep underground

_Author's Note:_ What, she's uploading on a Tuesday and not a Saturday!? Yep, we're breaking the pattern. I was probably the only one who noticed it, so it's fine. My apologies for the delay!

* * *

**Chapter 11:** A Deep Underground

* * *

The night began awkwardly, to say the least.

For one, she was _still_ angry at him. How long were priestesses allowed to hold grudges? Kagome's hard eyes and cold shoulder made him wonder just how set apart spiritual guides were from the rest of them sinners.

They made their tense hellos without meeting each other's gaze. Without saying another word to each other, the two began their journey with Inuyasha in the lead. It was tense and uncomfortable between them, made even worse by Inuyasha's loud breathing and Kagome's distinct avoidance of any contact between them. She jumped back when he turned, looked pointedly away when he glanced at her, and chose to drag behind than stay close.

It wasn't until the palace was just dark enough that she begrudgingly began following him more closely to trace his footsteps. Kagome took some comfort in the fact that her constant bumping into Inuyasha only agitated him further. He didn't use the slightest bit of effort to conceal his irritation; couldn't the damn woman let him breathe in peace?

When the two finally found the entrance of one of the palace tunnels, he looked at her with a warning glance. "Watch your step or you'll get lost and I'll leave you behind," he said curtly before stepping into the labyrinth that hid beneath the surface.

"I'll try to keep up," the priestess said lightly.

His nostrils flared as he huffed, knowing fully well that she would not be making any effort to keep up at all. She stubbornly ignored his frustration and motioned in the pitch black for Inuyasha to continue on, and begrudgingly, he complied.

"Did you ever find out who was in room 53, by chance?" she innocently asked after a brief period of musky quiet.

"Yes," he answered shortly.

Kagome waited for him to follow through with a name, and rolled her eyes when she realized he intended to drag it out of her. "And who was it?" The question was bitter in her mouth, tasted like defeat and submission.

He, however, seemed to enjoy hearing her unwillingness. "He goes by the name Naraku."

He didn't turn around to see her nod, a peculiar expression on her face. If he had seen it, he might have wondered why she reacted to the name with an odd familiarity. But it was much darker underground than it was in the castle, and so Inuyasha saw nothing. Neither, it seemed, did Kagome. Her clumsiness only worsened as they moved along, and after the tenth time Kagome stumbled over her feet, Inuyasha lost it.

"Do you want to spend _all_ night down here, or are you not as brave as you make yourself seem?" he snarled, turning around and glaring at his surprised companion.

"I wasn't the one who suggested going down here in the middle of the night like a criminal!" she retaliated.

"You didn't have any other ideas, so get used to it and use your eyes_._"

Kagome blanched at his audacity. "How was I supposed to know you wanted to go underground?"

"I told you to meet me at night!"

"Yes! That's it! That's all you told me, that could have meant hundreds of other things."

"What are you trying to imply, _priestess_?"

In any other circumstance, the murkiness of the tunnels would have concealed the outraged scarlet in Kagome's cheeks, but the eyes of a half-demon were much sharper than a regular human's. Satisfied with her speechless embarrassment, Inuyasha turned and resumed his journey, albeit at a slower pace than before.

Still, she continued to falter behind him, straining her eyes to see in the dimness and fighting to keep her mouth shut in spite of the rising anger towards Inuyasha. Finally, she spoke, and in her attempt to be taken seriously, a Kikyo-inspired authoritative quality (that was perhaps too big for her frame at the present moment) surfaced in her tone. "No matter what you think of me, I'm a priestess. I expect to be treated as such."

Inuyasha scoffed. "Don't get any ideas, I treat everyone this way."

"That hardly makes it alright," Kagome shook her head. "I didn't think you meant anything inappropriate_, _and I'm not useless, and I'm not a Kikyo spawn."

"I never said any of those things."

"_What?_" He wasn't sure if she was more angry or appalled by his statement, but he had a feeling that neither put him in her good spirits. In fact, she was more livid than she had been before. The red in her cheeks was almost comical. "You said all of those things, and worse!"

Inuyasha crossed his arms and looked away. "Can we forget about that already?"

"No! Just because you grew up in the castle doesn't mean you can treat people the way you do."

Kagome regretted the words as soon as they spilled from her mouth, and Inuyasha's expression was harsher than any stone that could have been cast. Her flaring temper receded at the quiet rage and concealed hurt she saw in his open face, and she cringed in anticipation of what he would say next.

He opened his mouth to speak when another voice from above them cut in. "Do you hear someone… yelling?"

Whatever rage either party felt gave way to panic as they froze in anticipation of whatever the guards would say next. Footsteps pattered above their heads. Kagome began chewing her bottom lip. A white half demon ear twitched.

"You're hearing things, Hayato."

"The voices sounded as if they were coming from beneath us," Hayato insisted, sounding as weary as the pair beneath him felt.

Inuyasha's sensitive ears picked up a sigh, muffled by the ground between them but a sigh nonetheless. "Let's ask around if that's possible, then. You can never be too safe, right?"

"_Shit._" Kagome frowned at Inuyasha's vulgarity, a detail he chose to ignore. "Here, get on my back."

"What?!" Her displeasure deepening, Kagome's forehead wrinkled as she examined her companion with a look of disbelief.

"It's not the hardest thing in the world to find these tunnels," Inuyasha hurried to explain exasperatedly. "Come on, I need you to cooperate with me here."

"You're crazy," she said skeptically, still surveying him as if searching for a sign of a mental breakdown.

"So does being found sneaking underground to speak with a man alone in his room!" His whisper was no less threatening than an outright snarl, and after a moment's pause, Kagome nodded and placed her hands on his shoulders. In a few swift motions, she was hoisted onto his back, a humiliating position when one is older than a mere babe.

"I can't believe this," she muttered to herself, struggling to avoid touching him unnecessarily.

"Believe it," Inuyasha shot back as he began running.

* * *

The tunnel wasn't particularly _long, _but the path it made was winding and sudden, lazily paved and often confusing. The shadows didn't help, either. Kagome's grip tightened every now and then, prompting Inuyasha to slow down and appease her apprehension. She was a woman used to the light, with bright open fields and a sky to enjoy as she worked. Running in the darkness beneath the land didn't suit her, but she would wince and bear it if she must.

Still, Inuyasha figured it didn't _have_ to be so trying for her. He was careful to slow down during turns, to make sure he kept an even distance away from the walls of the tunnel, even grunting occasionally to show that she was not alone in the depth of the thick black that threatened to swallow them. Privately, the priestess smiled to herself in thanks.

When the two reached the end, Inuyasha was exhausted. "Here we go," he huffed as she slid down and stood upright.

He was avoiding her gaze, and it made her smile. "Thank you, Inuyasha," she said sincerely.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. His ears certainly made him less infuriating. With lighter spirits and a longing to be out of the musty dampness of the earth, Kagome cautiously turned the knob and peeked out into a moonlit hallway. "All clear!" she whispered over her shoulder before stepping out.

Inuyasha quickly followed and closed the door behind them. After a quick glance to his left and to his right, he motioned towards a room a few feet down and said plainly, "There it is."

Stepping lightly like she was on the verge of being found out, Kagome moved towards the specified direction. Behind her, Inuyasha rolled his eyes as he took confident steps after her. She was foolish, and childish, and the slowest companion.

But still, he supposed he had a responsibility to stay with her. She was a helpless woman; who else would protect her for this one night? If it brought him closer to the truth, then Inuyasha would take any chance to learn more.

The expression on Miroku's face when he opened the door was one of mild surprise, as if he had expected guests but certainly not a half demon and a priestess. With mussed up hair and glazed eyes, he looked over the two of them casually before settling his sight on Kagome. "I'm not sure why you brought him along, Priestess, but I'd be happy to invite you in so we can get better acquainted."

Even in a daze of sleep, he was a lecher. Inuyasha glared at Miroku, berating himself for even bothering to take on this mission, as Kagome laughed. "No, it's not that! We're here for something else, actually."

"Pray tell, Kagome. If I may call you by your first time, of course."

"I don't mind at all. We're here to speak of delicate matters, and I have a question to ask you, as well."

In no time at all, her hands were cocooned in his, and her eyes widened as Miroku bent his forehead towards hers with a soulful look. "I would be honored to father your children, Priestess."

"She's here to talk about something _serious_, you fool!" Inuyasha finally snapped, flinging the words out so forcefully that a few drops of spit flew from his mouth and onto Miroku's cheek.

"Is that so?" Miroku kept his stare fastened to Kagome, holding onto their joined hands.

She struggled to get the word out through her flustered stammering. "Yes."

"Then come on in." He released her and stepped aside to let the two in. "We shouldn't talk in the hallways."

"Obviously," Inuyasha scoffed as he shut the door behind him.

"So, what question brought you to my door at this hour?" Miroku asked curiously as he sat on the floor.

"Well," Kagome began as she followed suit, "I was wondering, first of all, what you knew about puppetry."

"Which kind?"

"Any kind, I suppose." She blinked, surprised by his confidence. So the wardrobe was more than a disguise, it was a sign of thorough training. Abandoned training, but training nonetheless. Perhaps he was more knowledgeable than she initially assumed. The thought filled her with hope.

"I had a certain fascination with puppets for a brief while, so I may be of some service. Please, Priestess, explain."

"You see, Inuyasha received a report that during the fox demon challenge—,"

"You mean the challenge that earned me a personal sparring session with the beautiful princess?" Miroku interjected, the smug smile on her lips proving he knew exactly which challenge Kagome referred to.

"Yes, that one. Inuyasha received a report from the fox demon assigned to Naraku's room that Naraku was completely unresponsive for most of the night. I immediately thought of puppets, although… I may be wrong..." She trailed off, suddenly doubting whether her gut truly was reliable when she was little more than a priestess in training.

"I would have assumed the same. Do you know when he was reanimated, by chance?"

"Shippo said that as soon as the sun started rising, he started to talk and throw him around," Inuyasha answered, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the image of a small fox demon comically being flung about a bedroom.

"Do you think it was a puppet, Miroku?" Kagome asked eagerly.

"It seems likely, but I can't be sure. It couldn't be a Kugustu; they aren't strong enough to defeat even a child fox demon in battle. And Hakudoshi are much stronger, but they require present commands. I assume this Shippo didn't notice a vocal command to attack right before Naraku began responding?"

"He didn't say anything about it, but I can beat it out of him if he's lying," Inuyasha said with a clench of his fist.

"That isn't necessary," Miroku brushed him off without a pause. "If it is a puppet, which is still very likely, it's one that I haven't encountered and studied before. This Naraku would have to be very strong to pull that off: a Kugutsu controlled from afar with the strength of a Hakudoshi… is a strange thing indeed. All puppets must have some limitations, and if Naraku is a puppet, then he has one, as well. To have the abilities that he would, his weakness is of serious consideration."

"But what if he's not a puppet?" Kagome pressed.

"Then he is capable of putting himself in suspended animation," Miroku said gravely.

"That requires tremendous amounts of energy. How is that possible for a human man, with no spiritual powers?"

"Perhaps he will surprise us yet with exceptional purification abilities," he said dryly.

"So then he must be a puppet," Inuyasha insisted.

"I think that would be our best assumption, yes." Miroku leaned over to grab a bottle of sake.

"So all we need to do is a weakness." Kagome looked away as he began taking long gulps.

"I guess so," Inuyasha said miserably.

* * *

"You needn't spend so much time here, Master." The demon to his left looked straight ahead, more afraid than obedient to the man beside him. He looked normal enough: almost like a human man, with ivory skin and dark hair, a long figure and all ten fingers and ten toes. It was the lightness of his eyes that gave him away: a pale gray, almost white, unseeing and yet all knowing. They were inhuman; they were demonic.

"I don't see how I can afford not to, when no one else knows what to do when I'm not around," came his master's displeased response. His eyes, a deep shade of scarlet that looked more black than red, were cold and unfeeling. He was, by far, the more terrifying of the two despite the two inches he lacked in height beside the demon.

"The preparations are almost in place," the demon reasoned.

"They are far from in place," he said curtly. He had little patience for lies, despite his life of deception.

"Yes, Naraku."

"How many demons are in our troops?" Naraku asked.

"About 112."

"That is not enough." He remained expressionless as he spoke, although a cold flame unfurled in his eyes with every word.

"Yes, Naraku. I understand."

The demon left him and Naraku was alone, surveying the ocean with his back to the rest of the island. Him and the open sea, him and the future that he had carefully crafted. A slow smirk came across his lips, and he squared his shoulders in anticipation of what to come.

It didn't matter what the others thought they knew; they could do nothing to stop him, now.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 12? Sango leans of the trio's suspicions of Naraku, and approaches him herself.

_Author's Note:_ I should warn all of you that I'm going on a trip in about a week that will last another week. I'm hoping that I'll have Chapter 12 updated by the day of my flight so you don't have to wait another two weeks for the next chapter, but with finals going on as well, there's no guarantee. But I'm excited for how the plot picks up from here!

As always, I'd love to hear your feedback: what you loved and (more importantly) didn't love, etc. Have a great Tuesday!


	12. a question

_Author's Note:_ It's been awhile, friends! With Mirosanta and finals and vacations, it's been one priority after the other, and it was easy to put Sango's Choice on hold for a moment. But never fear — a new chapter is near!

Also, there were a few flaws in the last chapter: For one thing, Kagome and Inuyasha never found out Naraku was the occupant of room 53, and it was left a mystery as to how they found that out. Furthermore, how was Miroku supposed to know who Naraku even was, and that he was Not a Good Dude? They all suddenly associated Naraku with a Big Bad Villain and that is wrong. So I went back and added a few amendments to Chapter 10 and 11. So you don't have to reread it, I'll summarize it real quickly here:

1) Inuyasha told Kagome he would ask an official to find out who was assigned to room 53 in Chapter 10. (Why not do it before? Because he wants to be lowkey and sneaky and sly, duh.)

2) Naraku comes up eventually in the conversation in Chapter 11.

That's it! Enjoy ~

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**Chapter 12:** A Question

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Sango was not particularly devout, but she came to the shrine for more reasons than just religion. There was comfort to be found in the fields, a peace laced among the clouds, a warmth in the quiet of being alone. Of course, she was accompanied by her two escorts, but so silent and stoic were they that they seemed more ghosts than guards.

The ceremony of shrine visitation was unchanging and familiar: she bowed, she entered, she cleansed. She bowed twice, prayed, clapped twice, and bowed once more. The gods, she knew, made no differentiation between royal and civilian. They had no allowances or exceptions for even the most powerful of men; it was a necessary reminder, that Sango was not just a princess, but that she was human, as well.

Her prayers were plentiful and weighty, but she left with a lighter heart and clearer eyes. Say what you will about Taijiya's shrine, but there was something quite special about its simplicity. It was, perhaps, the priestesses who tended to it diligently.

As one of these priestesses, Kagome spent most of her day training under the cold guidance of Head Priestess Kikyo. Today was one of the rare days Kikyo allowed her to have the day to herself, to sit in the fields, to wander about the shrine, to connect herself again with the world beyond the palace walls. Heaven knew that after living in the castle, Kagome needed it.

She was walking among the trees when the princess caught her eye. The princess had her eyes respectfully lowered to the ground as she exited the shrine, deep in thought. Kagome raised a hand to wave and immediately froze with hesitation, wondering if it was improper of her to act so candidly around royalty.

Her doubts were forgotten when Sango raised her gaze and saw the priestess, and the smile that lit up her face made Kagome's want to squeal. The princess recognized her! The princess was smiling at her, perhaps even because of her. Kagome waved wholeheartedly and walked with a bounce in her step when Sango beckoned for the priestess to come over.

"Hello, Sango!"

"Kagome, I'm glad to see you." Sango looked around in search of somewhere to sit and, upon finding that there were absolutely no chairs in the fields, glanced at the ground. "Would you like to sit?"

"Is that okay?" Kagome asked, surprised by the suggestion. Were princesses allowed to sit on the ground? What of her dress? She peeked at the guards behind the princess. Would they accuse her of treason for letting Sango get a grass stain on her bottom?

Sango laughed and sat on the grass unceremoniously. "It is now," she joked, peering up at Kagome as she waited for her to sit beside her.

Choosing to trust her princess, Kagome followed suit and briefly considered if Kikyo would have done the same.

The two looked to the sky and waited for the words to come to them. The sun was warm and the wind felt clean and they were both surprised and unsurprised that sitting in complete silence was comfortable.

"The people have been singing your praises," Kagome said.

Sango smiled, albeit a little hollowly. "I'm a lucky princess, to have such kind subjects."

"They consider themselves lucky, too," she replied. "No one takes your sacrifice lightly."

"They have you to thank, truthfully," admitted Sango, smiling warmly at her companion. "If not for you, I don't think I would have ever found the courage to step forward. You gave me the reminder I needed."

To think that a young priestess in training liker her, barely a year old to Taijiya, could have made any impact on the princess… was astounding. Kagome outright gaped at her, and it wasn't until Sango giggled lightly that she remembered a response was still in order. "Well, ah. I'm..." She paused to take a deep breath, gathering her composure. "I'm honored. I would never have expected to influence a princess's decision!" she exclaimed.

Sango laughed at the look of wonder on her friend's face. Kagome was so incredibly different from Kikyo, who was the only priestess she had ever known. She quite liked it, actually.

"So, you're living in the palace now," Sango remembered, "How has that been?"

"It's only been a week, but it's pretty crazy," Kagome admitted, "It's so much bigger when you live there. Easier to get caught up into the gossip, too."

"Few people gossip with the princess, I'm afraid," she said without pity. It was the truth, although one she regretted.

Picking up on the slight nudge to spill her knowledge, Kagome brightened and leaned in conspiratorially. "One of the maids has an awful crush on the prince."

"The prince?" Sango blinked. "Kohaku?"

"Yes! A few of them have taken to watching him train in their free time." Sango made a face and Kagome laughed freely, hair thrown back and shoulders shaking.

"I've noticed a few maids sneaking peeks at Inuyasha, as well," the princess confided, feeling proud of herself for having some gossip of her own to share as well.

"The maids must really like _anyone_, then," Kagome snorted.

"You disapprove of Inuyasha?"

There was a slight warning in her question, almost a challenge, and it was only then that Kagome remembered how the people spoke of how devoted the princess was to her closest companions — Inuyasha being one of them. "Well, ah, it's not that I disapprove of him, it's just that he seems a little… rough around the edges."

"Oh, you're right about that. He really needs to work on his people skills, doesn't he?"

"You're telling me!" She barely held back a sigh of relief at Sango's response. Even the people closest to him knew he was impossible!

"When did you meet Inuyasha?"

The question, asked so casually and offhand, startled Kagome. She frantically considered all the possible and believable responses she could give under the princess's patient stare, but none came to mind. So she chose the only option left after stammering awkwardly for a few seconds: she told the truth.

"He needed some information, and I gladly gave it to him," she began miserably, knowing a stream of questions were sure to follow.

The change in Sango's demeanor was immediate; her eyes sharpened, her brow quirked, the line of her lips straightened. A princess again, and no longer merely a friend. She didn't have to say a word to prompt Kagome from talking, so clear was the authority she assumed.

"It was about The Silent Hero, at first. But then it became about a man named Naraku, and some strange happenings during one of the competitions."

With a single hand, Sango bid the guards a few steps back out of hearing range. "Please, Kagome, start from the beginning. And don't worry about Inuyasha," she added hastily.

Recalling her previous unkind thoughts towards him, Kagome found herself relieved to hear that Inuyasha wouldn't be hunting her down after discovering she broke their agreement. With that specific concern out of the way, she began unveiling the details of the past few days in earnest, and Sango listened. Sango listened until she could not take any more and then she listened some more.

By the time she was finished, Sango felt ready to burst. With anger, with disappointment, with confusion… with some overwhelming emotion that was yet to be named.

But she put that aside, took a deep breath, and nodded her understanding. "Thank you for letting me know, Kagome." Her voice lowering to a low murmur, she cursed Inuyasha. "I'm going to kill Inuyasha for trying to hide this from me."

"He wanted you to focus on more important things," Kagome attempted to ease her threat.

She seemed to hear her words but didn't take them to heart, offering a small smile instead. "Thank you, Kagome. For telling me this, and for trying to relieve Inuyasha of the blame. I should leave now, the King and I have a date."

The two rose together and bid their goodbyes, and as Sango walked away, Kagome wondered if she had made the right decision after all. Perhaps a half demon's fury was preferable to a princess's wrath, and a friend's disappointment.

* * *

You would think that regular visits with the King would make them less enjoyable, but her father was delighted to see Sango every single time. "The princess has kept the King waiting!" he announced her arrival sternly, although his grin took away from the reprimand of his words.

Usually, Sango's mirth matched her fathers during these meetings. But after hearing Kagome's news, she didn't have the strength or the time to paste on a smile, even for the King. She curtsied low before her father. "I apologize, Father."

He picked up on her low spirits immediately. "Something's wrong, Sango?"

"Yes, Father."

The King settled back into his seat and waited for his daughter to begin.

"The priestess Kagome informed me that her spiritual powers sensed a more sinister aura in the Silent Hero's wake. She worries that the Silent Hero is more than just a nuisance, but that it is a threat that we ought to consider."

"But that's not my greatest concern, Father. During the night of the fox demon challenge, one of the men by the name of Naraku was entirely immobile for the majority of the night. It was only after the fox demon himself tackled this man that he began moving again. The priestess theorizes that this man is a powerful puppet, more powerful than she thought possible. And if so, he is incredibly dangerous."

"A puppet?"

"Yes, a puppet. A puppet that has considerable strength but can be controlled remotely, which the priestess informs me is incredibly rare and, as of yet, unheard of."

"So who is pulling the strings?"

"Exactly." The weight of carrying the burden alone lifted from her shoulders, albeit only slightly. She met her father's gaze and waited for some long monologue of wisdom, a strategy, a battle plan. Her father, the King, who was as much her hero as he was the kingdom's. Even after her mother's death, he remained strong, warm, kind.

He spoke his next words quietly, as if the volume of his voice would match the severity of his daughter's heartbreak after she heard his response. "There is nothing you can do, Sango."

The words brought her world to a halt, and she shrunk, little by little, with each passing moment.

"We will take this matter into our hands, but you, Sango… As the princess, the only thing you can do is forget about these things and move forward. Your plan has been set in motion. My advisors and I will continue on as well."

"But Father—,"

"Sango, you have become the face of our nation. As long as these suitors are living in our home, you are all they know of Taijiya. Your first and foremost concern is keeping our people hoping. I will make sure they remain alive."

"There must be a way I can do _both_, Father, to keep them happy _and_ safe."

"The most you can do right now, as Princess Sango of Taijiya, the demon slaying kingdom, is to marry the right man."

The hurt sparked into something akin to anger, and before she could put a lid on her emotions, Sango began glaring at her father. "So my duty as a princess is to play the prize? I owe nothing more to my people than to sit and choose a man?"

The King spoke gently but his words were firm and solid. Unmovable. "Sango, you know it's much more complicated than that."

Her nostrils flared at the rock that was her father, who would not move even under her most passionate gaze, who had refused her initial plan of motion, who had not wanted this life for her but now forced her deeper into it, who now refused to let her do anything else but _this_.

"I am a warrior, Father. I have the mind and the skill and the strength of one, and that is all wasted sitting pretty before a crowd of men who look at me as only something to win, a tool to be tucked underneath their belt, another item on their list of accomplishments."

"I don't think that of you, Princess."

"Then why push me to be that way, Father? Why?" Her vision was blurring, and her eyes were wet, and Sango angrily wiped at the overflow on her cheeks. Let him see her anger, and her hurt, and her helplessness. Since her announcement, she had fought to keep her heart shut but his harsh rejection had burst it open.

She let the tears come, not only because her father was forbidding her to be useful, but for everything else that had bottled up along the way. His father's heart broke at the sight of it.

"You are the most important person in this palace right now. You are the face of Taijiya to these men, and you must keep them from knowing our secrets and our suspicions. We must do this underground. We must do things as privately as we can. We must keep this hidden in the dark. And you, Sango, shine far too brightly for them to remember that even you cast a shadow."

She hated herself, then, for sniffing loudly and reminding her father that she was still crying like a newborn babe. Too emotional to carry a responsibility this large and this urgent. Too weak to carry on.

The King smiled tenderly down at his daughter, who was too stubborn to dry her face. "I believe in you, Sango. So please, believe in me. I will take care of this."

With each breath, Sango simmered until she was collected once more, ready to speak as a princess and not his daughter. "I understand, Father."

"Are you sure, Sango?"

She took his question seriously and searched for any sign of doubt and resentment. Finding none, Sango nodded at her father and smiled her reassurance at him. "Yes, Father. I'm fine. And I do understand." And she did understand; she understood that her kingdom depended on her to keep a perfect face on at all times.

* * *

The look on Inuyasha's face when he lost the next competition was the highlight of his entire stay at the palace. Cracking his knuckles, Miroku grinned down at his fallen opponent and waved from above him. "I'm wounded, Inuyasha, that you underestimated me so much."

He growled and jumped up, fists curled and nails sharpened. "You idiot monk, you—!"

"Not a monk, remember?" he quipped.

"And the winner of the round is… Miroku!"

He laughed and held up a thankful hand as Inuyasha's face reddened with outrage behind him. From a distance, Sango clapped her hands with a bemused grin and laughed softly to herself. So he could wrestle with the best of them. How funny, that he beat Inuyasha.

_He's going to be beating up trees all week,_ she thought. The poor gardener.

* * *

The reward for the match was supposed to be a meal together, but remembering how their previous walk had been cut short, Sango changed it at the last minute. Instead, the two walked side by side among the courtyard in a comfortable silence.

Through it all, Sango reminded herself to keep him at a distance. It was all too easy with Miroku, to be interested by his many quirks and oddities. No, he was only another man to keep in the dark. That was all.

"Two victories in a row," she commented as they passed the rose garden, "Impressive."

He grinned at her. "Come now, Princess. You can't charm me completely and expect me _not_ to fight wholeheartedly for your affections."

She rolled her eyes, and he held out his elbow to her gallantly. Although slightly tempted to take hold of it out of pure politeness, Sango chose instead to ignore it and continue their stroll. He took her gentle refusal with stride, even a hint of amusement on his lips, and continued. "Although Inuyasha didn't seem pleased with the surprise of my strength."

That earned him a chuckle. "How _did_ you best him?"

"I took advantage of his ignorance. I'm much stronger than I look, you know."

Stopping in her tracks, Sango turned to him and raised a brow expectantly, waiting to hear the truth of whatever trick he had pulled to win.

"Alright, you've found me out. I tickled him."

Her laugh came out louder than she'd intended, and Miroku looked down upon her with pleasant surprise at the sight of a princess losing grip of her composure. Sango smiled sheepishly up at him at his expression. "So that's your trick?"

"A dirty one, but necessary, nonetheless," he answered as the two resumed walking.

"Your secret is safe with me."

"To have a secret guarded by a beautiful princess is an honor, indeed."

Sango frowned at him, caught off guard as usual by his forward flatteries. Every time she came close to enjoying his company, Miroku made her question whether he truly had a good heart or not. How could anyone trust a man who said such grossly exaggerated compliments so convincingly?

"What is it?" he asked, noticing her eyes searching for the truth in his.

"Are you ever sincere?" she asks bluntly.

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"Because… you just can't be," she answers dumbly, unable to think of a proper response.

"I could be."

"But you aren't."

"What makes you think that?"

Unamused, Sango glared at Miroku, who laughed at how easy it was to tease the princess. He took his time forming an answer that he hoped would be both honest and pleasing to the ear, successfully ignoring the impatience he sensed from the woman at his side.

"You know, most women are happy to hear reassurance of their beauty and charm," he thought out loud. "Not that you are like any other woman, Sango—,"

"Princess," she corrected. He could not see her as a friend; she would be a princess to him. The Princess of Taijiya, the face of the kingdom, as her father had put it.

His dimples popped out in full force and for a brief moment, she was distracted by the cheeriness of them. "You must be used to flattery, Princess."

Her? Flattery? She blinked up at him, wondering if Miroku was as ignorant as he sounded just then. "Taijiyans do not look to flattery for comfort, Miroku," she said slowly.

He frowned, then, and she realized that he _was_ as ignorant as he seemed. He knew nothing of her culture, for all of his bravado. Her long gait found a new spring with each step as Sango brightened, prepared to share all the ways of her people with him. "Warriors don't care for such things."

"Do warriors not enjoy hearing their virtues spoken aloud?"

Sango's brows furrowed. "No, that's not it."

"I am only expressing my admiration for you, Princess, the only way I know how. I'm sorry, if you find it insincere."

"No, Miroku, it's not that..."

He looked questioningly on at her, waiting. This man possessed the damnedest ability to make her trip over her words, tongue thick and mind slow.

"I don't prioritize beauty, or charm, or… beauty," she finished lamely. He chuckled but quickly quieted at the heat of Sango's sharp warning glance, offering a sheepish smile as an apology. Interruption forgotten, she clasped her hands together behind her as they walked and continued her train of thought. "I'd much rather be strong, and kind, and dependable. Graceful, patient, resilient. Funny. Happy."

Something in his eyes softened. "You're speaking of someone you know."

The truth of his words brought Sango's gaze away from the path to lock onto his. "I'm right, aren't I?" he added wisely, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he looked away.

She cleared her throat and looked away. "My mother."

"Ah. Mothers."

"What is yours like?" Sango suddenly asked, a small lump beginning to form in her throat. Her initial plan of battle had been to keep their conversation lighthearted and his hands away from her waist (she hadn't forgotten their sparring session the other day) — but the day had been long and tiresome, and she was ill prepared to cry yet again. Somehow, the thought of her mother only made the still-sore wounds feel all the more tender. It was best, the princess decided, to move the focus off of her and onto him.

Looking straight ahead, she missed Miroku's expression darken for a passing second and then lighten to one of fondness. "Beautiful, like all mothers are."

Sango smiled, remembering her own in a happier light. "I suppose all mothers are beautiful, aren't they?"

"All _women_, Princess."

"Miroku!" She wished she was looking at him with shock but instead, a laugh slipped through her lips in delighted surprise.

After all, Miroku was a smart man; he had heard her silent plea, for him to be honest, without putting on airs and acting out a part. And so he gave her a short glimpse of mischief, boyish impishness he pulled off wonderfully well. And it had made her laugh.

He hadn't seen her laugh often since his arrival. It was pleasant. A little loud, a little obnoxious for a princess, bursting from the chest instead of lightly tinkling out. It was real, and he rather liked it. This was his favorite part of flirting: the moment where pretension slipped away and the truth peeked out, curiously, hesitantly, fearfully.

It was the quiet moments in between that he enjoyed in between his mission-driven travels. Women were the perfect distraction and the perfect temptation. And Sango, Miroku was surprised to find, was not the princess he had expected.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, in truth. But their conversations made him consider each word, whether it be because of her beauty or stature or _her_. Very few, if any, women had done that before.

Princess Sango seemed to be exactly what she desired to be: strong, and kind, and dependable; graceful, patient, resilient. Funny. And if she wasn't happy, he certainly hoped she would become so, in the future. Privately, Miroku questioned which role she played in whatever plan was being conspired against the kingdom.

_It won't come to that,_ he told himself. But it was wishful thinking — for she was the princess of the Taijiya kingdom, and there were darker things stirring throughout the palace. And she stood in the very center of it. But still, a man could hope. Miroku supposed a man could fight and protect, too, but he would let her future husband take that role for himself.

* * *

"Your Majesty, the messenger has returned."

"Already?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." The woman bowed and stepped aside for a young man to step forward, holding out a scroll. The King took it and nodded his acknowledgement before dismissing them. "Thank you. You may leave." _You may leave, so that I may unveil the seriousness of the threat this Naraku may impose on my kingdom._

He was not quite worried. The King had only sent a messenger to a neighboring kingdom, respectfully asking after Naraku's home village, Shirakawa. The name hadn't rung familiar at all, but Taijiya was a relatively small kingdom with few connections to the rest of Japan. A larger, more central kingdom would surely have an answer for him.

The King opened the scroll with little fanfare, already choosing the words with which he would appease his daughter's suspicions the next day.

Upon reading the scroll, however, his face paled and he shut the scroll at once, as if another second spent staring at the ink would make the news worse.

_Shirakawa does not exist._

Which begged the question: did _Naraku_ exist?

With a silent groan, the King closed his eyes in frustration and set the scroll on a stand beside him. The questions came all at once, one after another, without a single second of rest in between. This was not good news, and would only bring his daughter great panic.

No, he would not tell her at all. Not yet. Not until he had a sound answer for her, prepared and ready. Even the King couldn't stand watching his daughter cry.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 13? A bridge chapter that will link us to my favorite part of Part 1. _What's Part 1?_ That'sexplained below.

_Author's Note:_ So thanks to lady-griddlebone, I got Scrivener... and I love it. I spent hours just organizing and plotting and getting excited all over again, so let me share with you a few things I have in mind.

1) This fic is divided up into three parts, and we are still in the middle of Part 1. We are in for a long haul, people. However, Part 1 is the longest part of this entire fic, so it won't be _too_ long.

2) We are going. To have. So. Much. Fun.

See you next time!


	13. a secret garden

_Author's Note:_ Kataoka is the advisor named in Chapter 7, who began the discussion of the Silent Hero's disappearance. He's not a main character and barely a side character, either, so don't worry about remembering his name or anything.

* * *

**Chapter 13:** A Secret Garden

* * *

The advisors all had the same question, although no one dared to speak it aloud. Their King was in a strange mood that day, silent and brooding and serious. They all wondered, through thoughtful glances and raised brows, whether it was his daughter's absence that soured his spirits, or his sour spirits that caused his daughter's absence.

The King picked up on all of his; it was his duty, to understand and to sense the people around him. He chose to ignore it and move on.

"There are still no reports of the Silent Hero reappearing," Kataoka announced, tapping the table with a restless finger.

"Any theories?" the King asked, meeting the eyes of every other advisor at the table.

They offered suggestions, some joking, some serious, but none of them rang quite true. The Silent Hero was a mystery, and they had no experience solving such elaborate mysteries with such little information.

His disappearance was, for the most part, a relief; Taijiyan slayers were being summoned to various other lands at a slow but steady rate, and their future seemed bright and promising. Still, it worried them that this great fortune followed their princess's decision so quickly.

"There is no way to know; is there a point of guessing?" one argued.

"You propose that we wait in ignorance until the consequences arrive, even if they're disastrous?!" another challenged.

And so, they continued to discuss and argue, until they forgot the King's silence in the midst of their debate. It wasn't uncommon for His Majesty to ride the storm of their conversation, swooping in at the end to offer his wisdom. But in this case, he had none to offer. He could only listen, a lesson he had learned early on as a King.

In this particular case, his input wasn't necessary; they came to a conclusion without him, and Kataoka rose to his feet to announce it.

"Your Mjaesty, we suggest sending extra slayers with every new mission to scout out information from neighboring villages, until we have a clearer picture of the Silent Hero and his intentions." With a short bow, Kataoka sat down in his seat once more.

Each advisor waited for the King's approval, which they were confident in receiving. It was a good plan, after all. Their people were all anxious to get back on their feet, so energized were they at the prospect of working again. Even now, slayers drew lots to see who would go on the next mission. They trained and practiced with renewed fervor and passion after this long drought.

"Takagi has requested our services next. We shall begin there."

"Do they not need time to prepare?"

"Our best slayers are more than capable of rising to the task," the King interjected, surprising them all.

"Our best slayers, all sent to one task?" The advisor speaking furrowed her brows with both confusion and worry. "Your Majesty, you must sharpen and replace every weapon you bring to war after each battle," she recited an old Taijiyan adage.

Although merry and bright, the King was capable of pure intimidation, stern and daunting. He looked upon his advisors with an iron fist in his gaze and his advisors prepared to comply with whatever command he gave.

"I would not send anyone less than the best with my child," he said, his voice soft and unforgiving.

"But Your Majesty," the advisor who had spoken earlier spoke again with a shaky bravery in her voice, "the princess must remain at the palace."

The King swallowed. "It is not the princess who will be sent to Takagi."

* * *

Spending time with a suitor, although not explicitly forbidden, was heavily frowned upon. But the men were free to roam about the castle as they pleased, and Sango could hardly help it if one in particular continued to appear at her favorite place in the castle: the gardens.

To be specific, it was a corner of the gardens that had yet to bloom. In fact, Sango wasn't entirely convinced that any seeds were planted in her corner, hidden and impossible to find in the maze of the castle garden.

The first time she met him there, she was shocked. The second, she was reasonably suspicious, accusing him gently of only coming to see her. He had laughed at that, to her embarrassment, calling her charming even when arrogant.

Her cheeks had been stained crimson for the rest of the day, to his private delight.

At first, Sango was uncomfortable sharing her garden with Miroku. Politeness kept her from requesting he find another spot to frequent, but her conscience still stung at the sight of him. Was this not unfair to the other men? Was it not dishonest?

If he was at the gardens every time Sango dared to visit, she would have put an end to it — but he wasn't, to her wholehearted relief. The gardens was still hers. And today, after her father insisted she take a day for herself to enjoy, the princess was overjoyed to find it peaceful and, more importantly, empty.

At least, she was for a few minutes until he arrived.

"Princess, it's been a few days since you've visited," he greeted her. He spoke as if the gardens were his, keeping track of her visits and absences. The implication grated at her nerves and she decided not to respond, sitting on a bench without a word.

"I've wondered where you've been," Miroku continued when it was clear that Sango would not reply. "The flowers are sure to stay hidden without your constant visitation."

Her curiosity piqued, she leaned in slightly to examine the soil. "Are there flowers planted in the soil?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I like to imagine there is. What gardener would leave only one area unplanted?"

She considered his question for a moment. "Perhaps it's symbolic."

"Of what? Emptiness, neglect? The rest of the gardens is full of beauty."

"You mean, beauty… full?" Sango quipped.

Miroku blinked at her, unbridled shock on his features, before bursting into laughter. "Princess, I do believe that's the first joke you've made. A quite good one, too."

She felt silly for smiling like a child at the compliment.

He took her expression as permission to sit beside her, and he did without fanfare, taking a seat casually as if the two were close friends and comrades. "Does this part of the garden have a story?"

"I've been coming here since I was a child," Sango said, looking down and noting the distance (or lack thereof) between them. "Nothing's grown here since I stumbled it while running away from my mother."

"I didn't think the Queen would have been cruel enough to run away from," Miroku said curiously.

She smiled at the title, given so naturally that one would think her mother was still alive. "We were playing a game," Sango explained, "and the garden was the best hiding place. I hid here for what seemed like hours."

Miroku listened intently, transfixed by her story, fascinated by his imagination of a child princess, giggling with secrecy in the deepest part of the garden. "And you've been coming since?"

With a short laugh, she nodded. "She would find me in the same place, every time, but still — it took her so long to find me. It made me feel awfully clever as a little girl."

Smiling thoughtfully, he motioned towards the plain garden before them. "Show me. I want to picture it."

_He is so odd_.Still, even as she questioned his sanity, Sango rose and crouched just behind the bench they sat on, even going so far as to cover her head with her hands, Miroku's eyes on her all the while. "Like this."

He laughed so genuinely that she felt less foolish and undignified as she held the position. "I was truly convinced that this was my secret place," she giggled.

Straightening, Sango returned to sit beside him and tilted her head as she gazed upon him. "How did _you_ find this place?" she asked slowly, voicing the question that had tickled her tongue since the first time she saw him here.

"It was an accident," he said, eyes locked onto the dirt, capable of life and still, lifeless. "I was lost in my thoughts, hardly paying any attention to where I was going. Then I found my way here, and over the next few days, kept making my way back."

"What made you stay?"

"The barrenness." He met her eyes with an emotion Sango had yet to name and had yet to meet, until then.

It almost looked like sadness, almost like being lost.

Burning on the back of her lips was the age-old delicate response, the smoothest way to tiptoe around any weighty matter and return to easier conversations. Instead, Sango offered the smallest of smiles.

To a man like Miroku, it almost looked like a promise, almost like being found.

Something in his eyes shifted, brightened to a mirth unfitting for the tender moment that had just passed between them. "Which I hope you will not familiar yourself with, Princess."

The sudden shift in atmosphere as well as the meaning of his words shattered whatever empathy she had for him in that second. With wide eyes and an open mouth, Sango jerked away from him. "What?"

"I assume you are expected to bear beautiful children to carry on the royal line, and keep Taijiya safe and flourishing."

"Yes, but…"

"And to do that, your womb must be—,"

"My _womb_!" Offended by his callous mention of something so personal as her _fertility_, Sango rose to her feet speedily. She curtsied stiffly, glaring up at him from beneath her lashes. "I regret to say that I must leave now, my lord," she said dryly, venom dripping in her voice.

"So soon?" Miroku pouted.

His words were left to be heard by nothing but the air, for she was already walking proudly away. He watched her leave, and exhaled with relief when she was gone.

* * *

It was only fitting that, on the day he received the most important news of his life, his sister came searching for him. Kohaku looked over his shoulder at the sound of feet hitting the dirt and grass prompted Kohaku to look over his shoulder, and smiled at the sight of her.

"Sister!" he greeted, raising one hand to wave.

Or perhaps she wasn't searching for him at all, for Sango looked surprised to find him, sitting with knees curled into his chest. "Oh, Kohaku!" She returned his smile and waved as she came forward to sit next to him. "What are you doing here?"

The skin between his brows crinkled as he frowned at her. "So you don't know?"

Sango blinked. "Know what?"

After a moment's hesitation, Kohaku shook his head. "It's nothing. You're not in a good mood anyway," he said quietly.

"Hey, what makes you think I'm not in a good mood?" She shoved him with her elbow playfully.

"I know you," he insisted, still pointedly looking away from her.

"Oh, come on, I can't be that obvious."

"The last time you were here, you were keeping a secret from me then, too."

"What?" Finally noticing the hurt that would have sounded like bitterness to anyone else, Sango put a hand on her brother's shoulder reassuringly. He didn't shrug her off, but he didn't quite welcome her touch, either, and she felt a pang of guilt for whatever she had done to hurt him so. "Kohaku, what secret?"

"About you wanting to get married, and invite every man to the castle to find an eligible suitor. Or whatever," he hastily tacked on to the end of his statement.

There was nothing Sango could say to that. He spoke the truth, something she had become unaccustomed to hearing. "Is that why you're upset?" she asked softly, "Because I didn't tell you?"

"Because you're _always_ keeping things from me." Although that was a lie; it wasn't her keeping him in the dark that upset Kohaku, so much as her absence. But he didn't have the words to tell her that, so he grasped at whatever he could find.

"I'm sorry, Kohaku." Sango retracted her hand and folded them in her lap, staring at the ground. "I keep trying to protect you, I suppose."

He couldn't help it, then; the words slipped out as if he was tripping over a slippery rock. "By ignoring me?"

"Ignoring you?" It took only a few seconds for her surprise to become understanding, and then remorse. "Oh, Kohaku…" Ignoring his rigidness, Sango covered him with her arms, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I've been a horrible sister."

Kohaku didn't say a word.

"I don't have any excuse to give you. No matter how busy I am, I promised you that I would be there for you, didn't I?" Her voice was soft, sounding as wounded — and as guilty — as he felt. "I'm sorry, Kohaku. I'm so sorry."

His feelings of abandonment forgotten, Kohaku awkwardly patted Sango's arm. "It's okay, Sister," he murmured, "It's okay. I forgive you."

She pulled back, her eyes shining with tears held tightly back. "I'm sorry."

"I said it's okay, didn't I?" Kohaku smiled kindly, for once feeling like the older brother comforting his sister, "I'll be the busy one soon, anyways."

Sango frowned."What do you mean?"

"Father is sending me with the slayers to Takagi for our next mission," he told her, his voice picking up in speed and in excitement as he continued. "He said that my training was already complete, and that it was time for me to see our best slayers in action and learn from them. I'm even getting a mentor! I'm not sure who it will be yet, but he'll go with me to every mission and make sure that I'm okay. Totosai says he still has things to teach me but I think he's just afraid that without me, he'll have nothing to do besides run around in his…"

The rest of his rambling was lost to Sango as his words settled in, further and further until it was all she could see. _Kohaku is going on his first mission. Kohaku is going on his first mission. Kohaku is going on his first mission…_

"What do you think, Sister?" he asked, beaming at her now that she had unloosed her arms from his torso and only stared at him.

"I… I…," she stammered.

Kohaku frowned when he realized what his older sister was thinking. "You're worrying about me."

Sango said nothing.

"You _always_ do this, Sango." With frustration she hadn't expected, Kohaku looked out and rested his chin atop his forearms, supported by his kneecaps. "You've been who-knows-where for weeks, and you still act like Mom just passed away."

"Kohaku!"

"I've been training, all these weeks," he continued as if she hadn't said his name with disbelief. "I'm ready. I believe in myself, and Father believes in me, too. Don't you?" he asked, looking at her and revealing his vulnerability in asking: _did she believe in him._

Her heart softened and she put a hand over his. Her younger brother, going off to his first mission. "I believe in you," she said with a smile.

"Do you mean it?" he asked gravely.

She paused, searching herself for any hint of doubt. Finding none, she squeezed his fingers and nodded confidently. "I really mean it."

He grinned and began rambling again, seriousness forgotten. And Sango listened, doing her best to ignore the nagging feeling that life was moving on without her, and she had almost completely missed it. If not for Miroku, she would never have run to Kohaku's thinking place to find him and learn of this great milestone in his life.

_Great. Now I'll have to thank him, the insufferable, rude monk-lookalike._

* * *

Long, pale fingers fiddled with the ends of his hair with excruciating boredom, exuding haughty impatience as the man before him babbled on. "Get to the point," red lips spat, and then split into a wide smile at the man's shaky continuation.

Power was, in some ways, very, very easy. But it was impossible without the necessary information, and Naraku finally heaved a great sigh when the man continued to use too many words to relay necessary intelligence.

And then finally, by some pure stroke of luck, he said all Naraku needed to hear: "The next challenge, I've discovered, will be a ball."

"A ball?" Naraku's face remained perfectly blank as he considered all the possibilities of a ball.

"Held at midnight, sir. Your Majesty. Your Highness. Your Evilness. Your—,"

"All of the above," Naraku interrupted the quivering man, thoughts still elsewhere, too preoccupied to deal with incompetence. "You may leave me."

A ball. Dancing. Midnight. He always did shine his best under the softness of the moonlight. The time to lay low was over, avoiding first place in the competitions, only floating as long as he could to remain in the game.

But would he rather play the game, or win?

The sharpness of his nails dug into his palm as he considered the prize. Yes, he would win. Remembering the princess's warm eyes, he wondered how she would look under his scarlet gaze. He would see it for himself, soon.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 13? Finally finally finally, the ball begins!

_Author's Note: _We are finally at my favorite part. It will probably only span one or two chapters, but it's going to be a lot of fun before things start going crazy. Hooray!


	14. a sneaking spider

**Chapter 14:** A Sneaking Spider

* * *

The moon was completely hidden tonight, and the palace was that much more beautiful for it. The night of the ball held magic and possibility, and the excitement of it flew through the halls and touched every woman and every man inside it. Even the maids, who would only watch from a distance, already swayed slightly to some inaudible tune as they watched the princess be prepared for her grand entrance.

Sango held her arms out as the gown was smoothed into place, keeping a dreamy eye on her reflection. She was unaccustomed to such refinery and glamor; Taijiya was not a kingdom suited for extravagance, but for just one long night, the palace would be filled with dreams and laughter and music.

Modest and flattering, her gown accentuated the sweep of her curves and the firmness of her muscles, and her skin glowed against the lavender of the gown. The stitching was intricate and the details were dainty, and it was the perfect fit. Her hair had been lifted off her shoulders, drawing the eye to the fine slopes of her neck and the sharp lines of her jaw. With her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed, she sparkled in a way that the maids had not seen before.

Sango had never felt prettier.

The maids swooned over her and exclaimed their praises, and for a few minutes, they were lost in the girlish fantasies of a ball to change lives and win hearts, of dancing and laughing and, if one was lucky, falling in love. Sango smiled and allowed herself to believe the fairy tale for a few light moments until she met her own gaze upon the mirror. Her eyes. There was something off about them. They didn't look ready for dancing; they looked ready for battle.

* * *

Monks may have great wisdom, but they often have little means. Miroku was certainly no different. He was lucky, then, to have befriended the half demon prince who was as handsome as he was ill-tempered. His tunic, although borrowed, fit him well. Although he lacked the muscular sturdiness of its owner, the looseness of the fabric flattered the lengthiness of his figure and the sharpness of his body. He was stunning, in his own right.

Besides his wealthier attire, Miroku looked as he always did: hair pulled back, eyes sharp and all-seeing, a half-smile etched onto his lips. Very few would deny his good looks and his charm in his traveling robes, but in the clothes of a rich man, he was irresistible. This was precisely the plan, and exactly the outcome he had desired.

Tonight, he would dance. He would make the princess laugh again, if he was so lucky. Miroku adjusted the sleeves of his tunic as he recalled the brightness of the princess's smile. It could replace the moon, if she so dared.

His gaze coiled. There was more danger in these palace walls than lurking men and strange puppetry. The real danger hid in his own chest, beating strong and true, faltering at the name of a particular young woman. He would have to fight this threat on his own.

* * *

If the deep scarlet of his attire wasn't enough of an eyesore, his bared fangs would surely demand the retreat of any wandering eye. The prince was not one for elaborate events, especially one that required him to dress in anything nicer than his usual robes. He desired the freedom of the wind against his muscles, the comfort to move and fight and leap from tree to tree.

Inuyasha fidgeted with the neck of his tunic. Instead, he was being forced to dance, a lesson he had refused to take seriously as a child.

His one comfort lay in the fact that at least his stature allowed for a sword to be at his right-hand side, secured tightly by a formal belt. He patted it protectively. Although he was only allowed this great honor because he was a prince, Inuyasha preferred to think of himself as a knight. It was far more valiant than the image of a young human man, sitting skinny and unexercised atop a throne with a heavy crown weighing his hair down.

He was more than human, although in the eyes of some, he was considered less than one, as well. His demon intuition warned him of a looming threat that he lacked the mind to understand, but he did understand this: that the stories of his hardheadedness were far from exaggeration. He refused to lose his kingdom and his family to the efforts of whatever dark future lay ahead.

* * *

Once upon a time, a priestess who lived in the palace had been invited to dance the night away in the arms of a handsome stranger she had yet to meet. Kagome was beyond herself with excitement. This would be her first glimpse into the court life.

In the back of her thoughts, she remembered Kikyo's warnings about being concerned with matters beyond the palace walls. But tonight, Kagome was not a priestess under the thoughtful mentorship of a beautiful and intimidating Head Priestess. Tonight, Kagome was a girl dressed in a borrowed pink gown and delicate white slippers, and her hair flowed freely down her back to turn and gleam as a handsome stranger turned her over in his arms.

She felt, for perhaps for the first time, that the world was completely open to her. That the future ahead of her was unplanned and unknown, a surprise to be unveiled like a present. That everything was sure to sparkle if she just closed her eyes and wished it.

Feeling much like the little girl she had once been, Kagome clasped her hands and closed her eyes tightly as if in prayer and whispered quietly, a wish she had yet to admit to herself. For a night to remember as her own, unmarked by Kikyo and the shrine and the spiritual world. For a night to be a girl unburdened by the world and her duties. Surely, that wasn't too much to ask.

* * *

Purple suited him. The color of royalty and the color of power, deep and proud. Examining his appearance, Naraku decided purple would be his favorite color, and not only for obvious reasons. It encompassed his being, his ambitions in life. Purple was, in all the ways that mattered, _him._

He considered for a brief second tying his hair behind his neck, but he rather liked the messiness of it, the chaos it embodied as it curled around his cheeks and riveted past his shoulders. Naraku didn't mind admitting he was vain; if paying attention to detail equated to vanity, he would proudly establish vanity as his defining trait.

Say what you will, but Naraku did enjoy some sparkle, some shine, some flourish. He wouldn't be here if he didn't. The dramatic effect, the final swipe of the blade, the unnecessary finality of death. It was something to remember, something to define a memory by. Naraku enjoyed the thought of being the definition of any moment, of any life. It was utterly haunting, and completely desirable.

His desires. He had many, and attaining them was like sinking his teeth into a fruit, juices rolling off his lips and down his chin, the sweetness and the stickiness of it marking its trail on his face. He was so close. Licking his lips, Naraku swiped at a speck of dirt on the mirror. She would be hers, soon.

* * *

Everything was gold. Even the flames sparkled and winked in their lanterns along the walls of the ballroom, joking as happily as the people dancing, palm to palm. Young ladies of the court giggled and young men blushed, and the King sat and awaited his daughter's arrival with only slightly damp fingers.

They had carefully planned for this night for many days, many weeks, many months. It was a jug of water in the midst of a desert, a cool room in the heat of summer. One could only fight for so long without rest, and joy was the best rest there was. The King did not, however, expect a cloud to loom over his shoulders as he kept his eyes distantly settled on a certain young man, whose hair quite rivaled the women around him.

He was the talk of the ball: this man, who had gone unnoticed by many throughout the previous months, who now gleamed brilliantly in the light of the fire. He smiled, he flattered, he won the people over in conversation — but he did not dance.

The King knew that Naraku was waiting for the princess, as well.

She arrived at the very instant Naraku met the gaze of the King.

Every eye then turned to the entrance where a single man stood, announcing the princess. They held their breaths, and when she stepped into the light, they released it happily. She was a vision, a dream gliding down the steps as they watched. They were all enchanted.

Strange and foreboding men forgotten, the King rose from his throne and met his daughter at the foot of the stairs. She took his extended hand with a warm smile and the two took long strides to the dance floor.

The music began. A knot formed in the King's throat. The princess felt, for the first time, like she was stepping out from underneath his wing. A moment of understanding passed between them before they took their first step into the waltz, steady and slow.

"Your weakness is showing," Sango teased in a low whisper.

"Since when has my daughter ever been a weakness," the King replied, his voice a notch deeper than usual as he contained his emotions. "She has been my greatest strength for many years."

She was touched and she showed it through a squeeze of the hand, a small smile. The two of them had danced together many times; it was customary, for them to begin the night like this. But the next time would be at a wedding; a royal wedding, Sango's royal wedding. This was a dance to be remembered. And so they would hold on and settle into this moment, and they would patiently await its departure before the King dove into darker matters.

"You must be careful of Naraku, Princess."

Sango kept her expression lighthearted and unchanged, although in her heart, her spine had stiffened and her mouth had deepened to a frown. "I believe that it was I who warned you, Father, of the sneaking spider within our midst."

"Indeed, it was."

"I know to be careful," she said solemnly, her gaze fixing on the man they spoke of. He met her eyes as if he had expected this, as if he somehow knew that in hushed whispers, they spoke of him and the danger he carried. He smiled and raised his glass towards her direction. Sango looked away and ignored the creeping feeling of being watched.

"I will continue to investigate his character," the King promised her.

"Have you found anything so far?" she asked, her eyes flitting from man to man, suitor to suitor, lips curved warmly all the while.

"Only small details that don't add up. Nothing to accuse a man with," the King answered with only the slightest frustration in his tone.

"They will soon, Father. I'm sure of it."

The two of them quieted and continued to dance, enjoying these few minutes of calm before the storm. King and princess, father and son. She had never felt safer than when she was in her father's arms, but as Sango met the eyes of Naraku once more, she knew this was her challenge alone.

* * *

At large gatherings like these, Inuyasha usually found himself leaning against the wall stiffly, with boredom and laziness and distaste. Tonight, suspicion was added to the list, as well as a restlessness that bordered on paranoia. Why spend time on frivolity in a time of trial?

Idiots.

He crossed one arm over to hold the hilt of Tetsusaiga and pretended to watch the princess and the King while he scanned the faces just beyond them. So focused was Inuyasha that he hardly heard the footsteps of a pesky man approaching him.

"I see that even music does nothing to sway you," came Miroku's voice, lilting and observant.

"Keh." Inuyasha didn't bother to look over at his companion.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miroku clasp his hands behind his back. "The princess looks beautiful."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively.

"I especially enjoy the curve of the horns growing out of her temples at this very moment."

"Yeah, yeah."

Miroku smiled at his blatant ignorance. "You aren't listening to a word I'm saying, Inuyasha."

"You're only talking about Sango," he grumbled, not even the slightest bit sheepish at being found out.

"The man you're looking for is to your right, about fifteen fight over besides the pretty blond woman with a striking rear end."

"What?" Inuyasha whipped his gaze towards that direction.

"Please, try to be subtle."

Yet again, Miroku was ignored, small in the light of more sinister matters. With a slight lift of his chin, Inuyasha took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose shortly after. The smell. Like something decaying, like something to be thrown out. This wasn't human.

"Miroku," Inuyasha said darkly as he watched Sango intently.

"What is it, Inuyasha?"

"He smells like rotting flesh."

His brows knit together as he considered the many questions that sprung to mind. "How do you know what that smells like?"

"I'm a Taijiyan," was Inuyasha's simple answer, matter-of-fact, as if all Taijiyans were familiar with the smell of death.

Miroku chose to ignore the alarming image that brought to mind, unwilling to picture Sango in the middle of dead bodies and blood, weapon in hand, a filter mask over her mouth. "Interesting."

"That I'm Taijiyan?"

"No, that he smells like rotting flesh." He pressed his fingers into his palm, a few theories coming to mind. "We must keep him at the ball for as long as possible."

"Why?" Inuyasha raised his brows at Miroku, thinking privately that he would prefer it if Naraku was out of the ballroom as soon as possible.

"That smell might indicate won't last the night," Miroku said with a smirk, prepared for this fight, as insignificant as it was. "I'm interested to see how well Naraku the puppet he can be strung along before the one pulling the strings needs a break."

Inuyasha nodded and the two returned to watching the princess and the King turn about the room. They moved with grace and confidence, and Miroku was particularly drawn to the peaceful smile on Sango's lips, a small spark of surprise lighting within him. He had never seen her look so unburdened.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" a stranger beside him asked, "I don't think she's ever looked so beautiful."

He recalled the proud grin Sango had worn in her slayer's suit, standing over him with a pink in her cheeks and a dash of conceit in her gaze. Smiling at the image, Miroku loosened his fist and smoothed down his tunic. "I can recount a time or two," he replied smoothly.

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 15? Lots of dancing, what did you expect?


	15. a game

**Chapter 15:** A Game

* * *

"Naraku," he said to the woman batting her eyes at him so shamelessly, "My name is Naraku."

"Naraku," she repeated, rolling her tongue over his name like it's hard candy. "So why aren't you dancing, Naraku?"

He looked over to the princess, who was making the rounds, greeting each attendant with a kind smile and a short laugh here and there. She wasn't dancing with any of them, he noticed, although he recognized the slight disappointment on the faces of those who dared to ask.

She followed the direction of his gaze. "You're saving your first dance for the princess, then?"

Naraku feigned regret as he smiled down at the woman, whose name he had already forgotten. "I will find you for my second, you have my word."

How easy it was, to deceive. She beamed up at him and curtsied, thanking him or something of that manner, he was sure. But he had already tuned her out and sharpened his eye for the next woman to woo. He intended to be the star of the ball.

And so he politely excused himself and slipped away to float to the next beautiful rich maiden. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that man, that foolish man who usually dressed like a monk and now wore the fine clothing of a prince. Following him. Playing the role of a casual passerby mingling and charming the people around him, but shadowing him all the while.

For five women, that man had stayed close. He was discreet, to be sure, but there was no possible way to fool a master.

So this was to be a game of cat and mouse, was it? Naraku curled his lips into a smirk and decided to make it enjoyable for the both of them.

* * *

They chose to split their time at the ball into two parts: Miroku would watch Naraku for the first, and Inuyasha would watch him for the second.

Inuyasha had offered to track Naraku for the duration of the entire ball, but to his surprise and surpreme irritation, Miroku had turned him down. He was supposed to _like_ these things, with women and sake and dancing. Instead, he had left Inuyasha alone to fight his way through the ocean of drunkards himself.

For that reason, he was now sulking and observing the party, feeling entirely out of place. The young women did their best to draw him out of his corner but eventually tired of talking to themselves, even if the man barely listening was the prince himself. He was grateful when the woman finally left him alone to grump in peace.

"Inuyasha, is that you?"

He blinked. "Kagome?"

She looked happy to see him, an expression he hadn't seen on her face until then. Lit up from the inside out, beaming, enchanted. He frowned at the strangeness of it. "Can you believe it? I'm at a ball, in the palace!"

Inuyasha scoffed at her naïveté. "You live here now, what makes it so special?"

His quick dismissal of her excitement turned her smile into a glare. "Do you have to ruin everyone's night because yours is already miserable?"

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Yes, it is!"

"Am not," he grumbled, crossing his arms.

An idea came to her mind, a challenge that would both make him angry and her incredibly happy. "Prove it. Dance with me."

He jerked instinctively at the order, cheeks flushing. "What are you trying to do here, exactly?" Inuyasha asked suspiciously.

She grinned proudly at her own genius, relishing the embarrassment written all over his face. _She_, Kagome the priestess, had gotten a reaction from the prince. "Dance. With. Me."

"Why should I?" he shot back, scrambling to recover from the humiliation of having the rug swept out from underneath his feet.

"Because it's my first ball and I don't know anyone else besides you and Miroku. And I want my first dance to be with someone I know."

"Why not find Miroku?" Inuyasha asked before remembering — _shit, he's off watching Naraku, and she's only going to interfere if she finds out._ Before Kagome could look around for that pervert, he cleared his throat and shoved his hand out towards her. "Fine."

She blinked at his sudden eagerness. How unlike him, to turn around on his stubbornness so suddenly. But Kagome wasn't one to take her luck for granted, and she took his hand before Inuyasha could change his mind.

_Here we go._ With one last sigh, Inuyasha led her to the center of the ballroom. Beside him, Kagome did her best to look composed and elegant, to contain the nervous wreck within her stomach. Was everyone staring? She peeked. Yes, they were staring, they were staring unashamedly at her. Was her dress too plain? Or was she walking ungracefully? Kagome winced with worry, and to her surprise, Inuyasha said quietly, "It's because of me. Not you."

She searched his eyes for emotion when he stopped and turned to face her. His gaze on her was stoney and decidedly guarded, as if she was a perfect stranger. Inuyasha put a hand to her waist with confidence that caught Kagome off guard and warmed her cheeks. She gaped at him with a slightly open mouth and pink cheeks, and he rolled his eyes at her expression. _Women._

He grabbed her wrist and dropped it on his own shoulder with exaggerated frustration, reminding her that he was still _Inuyasha_, not just a prince. The nerve of him! She could move on her own without his help, she was no puppet. The blush fled from her cheeks as her usual annoyance towards Inuyasha returned, and the two began to dance: an expressionless prince and a glowering priestess.

But she had to admit, he was a good dancer. Her anger was quickly forgotten as Kagome struggled to keep up with Inuyasha. She was surprised to find that he was graceful, moving so smoothly and so naturally that she envied him.

"Stop staring at your feet," Inuyasha suddenly commanded her.

Her eyes snapped up to his, detesting the haughty amusement in his eyes. "What?" she stammered.

"You look like an idiot. I'm leading, you just have to follow."

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Kagome huffed.

"You're overthinking it. Relax," he said dismissively, looking past her to the crowd and continuing to turn her into wide circles.

The conversation was obviously over, and Kagome reluctantly followed his instructions, staring at him and not at her toes. It admittedly took a few minutes, but soon she was enjoying herself, following Inuyasha with ease.

It was wonderful! She could hardly call herself the most elegant dancer in the room, but she could at least say that she held her own. Kagome glowed with pride and beamed up at Inuyasha, who had yet to make eye contact with her since bossing her around. But who cared, she had done it! Kagome laughed with delight, drawing Inuyasha's attentions. "What are you laughing about?" he asked.

"I'm doing it," she answered happily, "I'm dancing!"

"Keh. Last dance you'll have tonight, probably."

He did his best to look away, but the flush in her cheeks called out to him, the curve of her mouth as she grinned. Her childish happiness at this one small accomplishment — had he ever felt that?

She noticed his thoughtful appraisal and smiled sheepishly. "This must be silly to you."

Caught red-handed, Inuyasha looked away quickly. "Keh."

What he saw broke the embarrassment he felt, and Kagome watched his expression darken. "What is it, Inuyasha?"

"Don't look now, but Naraku is to your left," Inuyasha murmured, tearing his eyes away to meet Kagome's gaze.

"Oh." She squeezed his shoulder and ignored him stiffening. "Turn me so that I face him."

And so he did, and Kagome kept her eyes and senses sharp for some negative aura from some sinister man. She found him immediately: long hair, black and curling down freely, watching the floor with all-seeing eyes.

"He looks so familiar," she said softly, almost to herself.

"He does?" he asked sharply, "How? Where have you seen him? What do you recognize?"

"I don't know," she admitted, her voice quiet and wondering. "I think it's his eyes. Something about them…"

"Well, figure it out. It could help the kingdom," Inuyasha ordered, taking on the authoritative tone of a prince.

"Yes, I will," Kagome nodded fiercely. "I've known him. I'm sure of it."

* * *

Kohaku was glad, that the eve of his departure would be spent in merriment. He was a simple boy with a simple heart, and to see the ones he loved happy was the greatest parting gift he could have asked for. With a light heart and an even lighter step, he turned maidens across the ballroom and enjoyed their pleasant conversation. It felt strange to make a girl blush. He was only fourteen, after all. What right did he have, to capture the heart of a young woman?

Nevertheless, he did, with all of the effortless grace and natural charm that Kohaku was well-known for.

The song ended and he bowed to his partner, who curtsied prettily and smiled shyly at him. He was ready to request a second dance with her when her eyes unexpectedly rounded and she curtsied a second time deeply. Wrinkling his brow, Kohaku turned to see what had changed her demeanor so quickly.

"Sister!" he beamed.

"Princess," the girl behind him said respectfully.

Sango nodded and smiled warmly. "Hello. Would you mind if I kidnapped my brother for a dance before I return him to you?"

Her cheeks stained scarlet, Kohaku's previous dance partner shook her head. Her curls bounced about her shoulders and for a moment, he willed his older sister to go away. "Of course not, Princess. No need to, ah, 'return' him to me either, Princess. Ah, it was nice dancing with you, Prince Koha— Prince." She curtsied breathlessly, the third time in the past minute.

"It was nice dancing with you as well!" Kohaku called out to her as she walked away.

"I like her," Sango laughed.

"You ruin everything," he said, taking on the airs of misery even though his smile gave away his joking intentions. "You wanted to dance, Princess Sango?"

"Yes I did, Prince Kohaku." Sango took the hand he offered and the two began moving to the music with her in the lead, being a few inches taller than Kohaku. The two made small talk, making a few jokes at the expense of a few courtesans in the room, teasing and poking fun as only siblings could.

When the two quieted and Sango sobered, Kohaku knowingly squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Sister."

She squeezed his hand back. "I know you'll be alright."

"Of course I'll be — Father's sending all of the most experienced slayers with me."

"You are his youngest; he would be devastated if you so much caught your sleeve in a bush."

"I know, I know."

Her heart grew heavier by the footstep, by the sweep of her gown as brother and sister glided past the others. "You promise to return, alive and well?"

Warriors were not afforded naïveté. Kohaku swallowed his optimism down. "You know I can't promise that, Sango."

"You could lie," she joked halfheartedly.

"I am trying to be honorable," he insisted, sounding like the boy she liked to pretend he still was.

"Alright, alright," Sango smiled, "I was your age when I went on my first mission, too."

"I remember. You were the moodiest princess Taijiya had ever seen."

"I was nervous!"

"And mean," chimed in Kohaku. She grinned at the memory of the week leading up to her first battle, her first demon. Poor Kohaku, only just beginning his training at the time, wondering if this would be him in a few years as well. "I'm handling it much better than you did," he added confidently.

"You're more of an adult than I am, I suppose," said Sango, fond of the man she knew he would become. The prince he would become.

"You're sacrificing much more than I ever will." A sting began growing behind the bridge of his nose. "It's very brave."

"Our people will be safe, and happy," she said, longing for the future that would begin after her husband was chosen.

"You too, Sister. You'll be safe and happy too."

Unable to help herself, Sango sighed, feeling wistful and mournful and hopeful all at once. "I hope so. And you'll be there to see it, won't you?"

"Of course, Princess. As the prince of Taijiya, I'm obligated to attend the royal wedding."

"Oh, so _now_ you're promising your safe return?" she teased.

"As the prince, not as the slayer! You're going to jinx me now," he wined.

Feeling free and unburdened, Sango laughed. "You're going to be just fine. You're a Taijiyan, after all."

* * *

He had yet to step foot towards the center of the ballroom, but Naraku knew that he was already tangled up in an entirely different kind of dance. Following and leading, stepping forward and stepping back — like clockwork, the monk continued to mirror him. He was inescapable, an accomplishment that Naraku did not take lightly. He moved in shadows and in secrecy; no average man could navigate through the dark without having some of it in themselves.

For that reason, Naraku chose to entertain the man until finally, he grew tired of the same bait and chase. Were humans not exhausted by the cycle of being the same? All demons knew that humanity's weakness lay in their predictability. They never surprised him, as hard as they tried.

It helped, too, that he had ears and eyes on the palace walls. A game of puppets, a story that Naraku had carefully crafted. Even this, he tired of eventually. It was exhausting knowing everything, planning everything, expecting everything.

After a quick calculation, Naraku turned slightly to meet the eyes of his ardent admirer who, to his credit, looked back at him with unflinching acknowledgement. A smirk quirked at the corner of his mouth. Miroku's eyes narrowed.

He began moving, and he did not have to look over his shoulder to know he was being followed once again. This time, Naraku brushed off the quick greetings of pretty women until he reached the hall just beyond the entrance of the ballroom.

Leaning against the wall, he waited. It took a few seconds longer than expected, but eventually, the monk appeared and rested his back on the opposite wall.

"I've never had a male admirer before," Naraku said casually, coldly meeting his violet gaze.

"I'm not your admirer," Miroku said, his tone matching the iciness of Naraku's eyes.

"No, you're just a fool."

Miroku's jaw locked but otherwise was still. "A fool, for not trusting you," he deadpanned.

"A fool for assuming to know me," Naraku raised his chin.

"I have known men like you my entire life," Miroku said quietly, "Men who are evil in all threads of a story. Men who lose."

"But I am not a man," Naraku smiled serenely.

"No, you aren't. You are the devil. You are the enemy. You are a puppet."

"I am God."

He wasn't a monk — but he still had some reverence for the great forces of the world. To hear a man like Naraku presuming to claim the position of God… it set his blood to flames. It blackened his veins until they felt like poison, like bloodthirst, like revenge.

It appealed to Naraku, whose eyes darkened as they searched Miroku's. "You have one question."

A beat. And then, Miroku realized what he had just been given. But he couldn't choose between all the questions brimming at the forefront of his brain, and eventually, he voiced the simplest one: "Why are you here?"

Naraku rolled his eyes, but answered nonetheless. "To win the hand of the princess."

Miroku refused to take that answer. There was more, there was secrecy, there was an ocean of danger underneath the surface. "Why are you here, Naraku?"

"To win the hand of the princess."

"Why are you here?" Miroku demanded, the volume of his voice escalating despite how vigorously he tried to keep it down.

He loved getting a reaction out of humans. With a smirk, Naraku answered once more, "To win the hand of the princess."

Miroku let out an uncharacteristic snarl of frustration. He should have known, he should have been smarter about this. But this man had a way of bringing out the beast in him. In his presence, he couldn't find his center, his peace, his lifeline. All he could find was red hot fury.

Naraku straightened and headed towards the ballroom. As he passed Miroku, he paused and said casually, "You seem familiar. Perhaps we've met in a past life."

Long after he had left, Miroku remained, fighting the monster that desperately wanted to come out. He was not usually like this. This was not who he was. This was the first he had ever felt claws scraping at his insides, roaring for release. Naraku had done this to him. He clenched one fist over his chest and took deep breaths.

He hoped that he had been the reason for Naraku's death, in a past life.

* * *

Sango smiled regretfully as she politely declined a suitor's third request for a dance. Her feet were tired, her lips were dry, she desperately required some rest to watch her people enjoy themselves as well. Every excuse she could think of was given, and eventually, with one sorrowful bow, the suitor left and began pursuing another young lady, who had the unabashed groaning expression that Sango herself had reeled back.

The heavens forbid that he would become her husband. She had little time to entertain a mere man when there was an entire kingdom to rule.

She smiled at those who approached her and made small talk with the few who had the courage to begin a conversation. But still, she was reserved and withdrawn, and the people of the court understood: she must be exhausted. In time, Sango found herself alone as she wished, clasping her hands in front of her as she watched the merriment, feeling happy, feeling lucky.

"Princess," said a man from her side, his voice like midnight.

The sight of him surprised her; she did not recognize this man, with long hair and vaguely blank eyes. But then he smiled like he held a knife in his hand, and his face rearranged itself: Naraku. She reeled back her emotions and bowed her head respectfully.

"My lord."

"I am lucky to have found you alone, Princess."

A shiver ran down her spine.

"I'm afraid I'm unused to hours of dancing," Sango admitted, "and it pleases me to see the palace so alive with music."

"This doesn't happen often, then?" he looked over to the dance floor.

"Not at all," she followed his gaze, "We Taijiyans find joy in other, simpler matters. But every once in awhile, big events such as these is a nice change."

"Simpler matters," he repeated slowly, as if testing out the sound of it in his mouth.

"Yes, like… coming home after a long journey and sitting with your family in silence," Sango remembered her own father after a particularly long battle.

"And that is what _you_ enjoy?"

His questions were strange. Almost curious, almost genuine. She looked upon him with bewilderment and tried to understand how a man could be so pleasant in conversation and so sinister in the intelligence she'd received. "Yes," she said cautiously.

She found the hint of the man she'd assumed him to be in his following bow and the smirk directed her way. "Would you also enjoy a dance with me, Princess Sango?"

It was like he had become an entirely new person. He was as suspicious as she'd imagined him to be — but she was a princess and he was her suitor, and she had no choice. Putting her hand delicately in his, she curtsied. "Yes, I very much would, my lord."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 16? Obviously, Naraku and Sango dance together... and Miroku is not very happy about it.

_Author's Note:_ I'm expecting the ball to last for another two chapters (16 + 17), so if you're already sick of it, don't worry! We're almost to the end of it! I, for one, am loving it.


	16. a hidden meaning

_Author's Note:_ This chapter is a few days late, but here it is! It took a little longer than the others, but it was a favorite to write. I hope you'll see why!

* * *

**Previously, in Chapter 15**

* * *

She found the hint of the man she'd assumed him to be in his following bow and the smirk directed her way. "Would you also enjoy a dance with me, Princess Sango?"

It was like he had become an entirely new person. He was as suspicious as she'd imagined him to be — but she was a princess and he was her suitor, and she had no choice. Putting her hand delicately in his, she curtsied. "Yes, I very much would, my lord."

* * *

**Chapter 16: **A Hidden Meaning

* * *

Naraku was a bad man. That much, Sango knew. She knew that he was a liar, that he was not to be trusted. That he was not all human.

Since Kagome first confessed her suspicions about him, Sango had kept a careful eye on him. He was cold. Manipulative. He pretended. He kept himself at a distance and stood haughtily away from the others, as if he was above them all.

As if he knew something that the rest of them didn't.

She had painted an image of him in her mind already, and the image was far from flattering. But Sango hoped Naraku didn't know that. For all he knew, she was the naive princess she'd been when he first arrived to the palace.

He led her to the floor and other couples parted to the side respectfully. Naraku smiled proudly beside her. Finally, to have the princess by his side. A worthy partner, the only one worth having.

He took her hand and to her surprise, his touch was warm. She looked up. His eyes were sharp, catching every movement, every fleeting thought. Sango barely repressed a shudder, feeling very naked under his gaze.

She was sure that he could sense her trepidation, her weariness of him, and that he enjoyed causing her great discomfort. He knew exactly what he was doing. The thought of him not knowing anything slipped away from her thoughts; those cold scarlet eyes saw everything, she was sure.

The two began to turn together, and despite herself, Sango had to admit he was a good dancer. And although she would rather bite straight through her tongue, she was obligated to make conversation, and Naraku knew it. He was waiting for her to speak first — to fight against her will and inevitably lose for the sake of duty.

He liked to see her suffer, she sensed, and she suddenly detested him for it.

"May I humbly ask a question, my lord?" she asked, her lips at his shoulder.

"Of course, Princess," Naraku answered smoothly, his voice like syrup, thick and seductive even to the woman who wanted him far, far away from her kingdom. She shivered, and he smirked.

"Why seek out a kingdom and a wife? The other men—,"

"Are insecure and seek validation, know they need control of Taijiya to establish themselves, or wish to please the King," Naraku finished for her.

Damn it all, he was right. Sango nodded as he turned her this way and that, his grip tightening around her waist subtly.

"I don't seek the kingdom," he explained, "but I do seek their prized possession."

Her eyebrows knit together, trying to name the possible treasure he spoke of. All of their possessions were valuable and powerful, usually taken from defeated demons, but none were so remarkable to stand above the rest. "And that would be, my lord?"

"Their lovely princess," he said lowly. His voice was a caress in itself, dark and haunting and foreboding. Her insides shook in apprehension at the sound of it. She did not trust this man, but she had no way of dismissing him without losing her place as the fair and respectful Taijiyan princess, regarded as kind and good throughout all kingdoms. She needed that reputation to keep these suitors at the palace. She relied on her image to keep Taijiya strong.

"You come so far to seek ownership of a woman?" she questioned. It couldn't be love Naraku was after; she had seen too much of him to believe that he held longing for such beauty. It had to be power. The dominion of a woman, as opposed to the affection given to him by a woman. Nothing else would satisfy him, she knew.

His grip tightened further and a gasp escaped her at the sudden weight of a body pressed against hers. It was inappropriate, and wrong, and she could sense the threatening eyes of a hanyou and the burning gaze of a monkish friend on their figures.

"Nothing is so treasured as the heart and body of a maiden," he murmured, his lips suddenly at her neck. Her heart hammered, rising up to her throat. How dare he! With so many suitors around to challenge his honor, with her Father in the same room, with her brother among the men at the ball…

His breath was hot against her skin and she stiffened at the heat of it. "My lord, I ask you to remember where you are right now," she said with a hard voice and a screaming mind._ Get off of me, you sick and vile creature! Do not touch me again, I will never let you touch me ever again, you will not receive my hand!_

He moved away at once, a surprise and a relief to the princess. "I apologize, Princess. I don't know what came over me."

The song ended and Sango stepped back immediately, looking into Naraku's face. What she saw unnerved her further than their brief dance had, for he looked… sincere. Mild shock hung on his features and even shame lingered still in his eyes, emotions she couldn't imagine belonging to Naraku. She curtsied and he bowed, but as she walked away, she felt no hatred towards him as she normally did.

She was only confused.

* * *

The space behind his eyes were aflame. Miroku was sure that if he so much as blinked, his sight would immediately melt and he would be blinded. He almost wished he was, watching that monster put a single hand on the princess.

Beside him, Inuyasha was in a similar state of mind. His fangs were gleaming, a hand gripping the hilt of his sword, entire body clenched.

He inwardly flinched at the thought of the half demon prince retaliating against the half human monster. Putting a hand to his friend's shoulder, Miroku stepped forward. "I'll take care of her. You watch Naraku _from a distance_," he commanded sharply before heading towards Sango's direction.

She was walking steadily on, like a soldier marching to battle. He hurried to follow her, sidestepping men and women with an eye trained on her figure — an easy task, with a bottom as lovely as hers.

Finally, when the two were secluded in a shadowed hallway, Miroku called out after her. "Princess!"

Sango turned slowly, eyes wide with fear. Every muscle seemed to relax when she saw that it was only him. "Miroku," she exhaled with relief, "You surprised me."

He caught up to her and smiled reassuringly. "It's just me."

She recovered from her paranoia speedily, taking a single deep breath before continuing forward. "I was heading to—"

"The garden," Miroku finished for her, a laugh just dangling off of his smirk.

Sango blinked, wondering how he had known. "Yes, the garden."

"You can be quite predictable, Princess."

A smile began blossoming on her lips. "Or perhaps you just know me too well, my lord."

Miroku's expression faltered as he registered the compliment, one that he did not take lightly. She pointedly kept her eyes straight ahead and fought the warmth rising to her cheeks.

"Does this mean I can call you Sango now?" he asked casually, halfheartedly joking.

Her blush deepened and she did not speak until she was sure she at least sounded composed. "I don't see the harm in that."

Something inside him became tender and soft. Miroku stifled a grin and Sango forced her eyes to stay forward, and the two headed towards the garden in comfortable silence.

He had resolved to keep his heart bundled up tightly, but with each step, a chain loosened, little by little, ready to fall.

She was a bundle of nerves, hesitantly blissful at the flame kindling between them — and a little afraid, too.

It wasn't until they stepped into the moonlight that Miroku remembered why he had come after her in the first place.

"Naraku," he said simply, the name enough to cement them back to earth.

And then Sango remembered: she was a princess. She was playing a bride-to-be, a prize to be won. Her eyes shut as reality returned her to her senses.

"He unnerves me," she finally admitted. Slowly, her eyes opened and locked onto his with hidden meaning.

Hidden as it may have been, Miroku understood her meaning at once: she could only be his friend, the princess of Taijiya. A ball of disappointment fell to his stomach; it had been a very long time since he'd unconsciously hoped for something more.

"He unnerves us all," he said seriously.

"Yes, but he _touched_ me. His lips…" she shuddered, and Miroku felt a stab of both rage and jealousy. "What does he want, Miroku? From me, from Taijiya?" Away from the public eye, Sango removed the pleasant, dignified mask of a princess and crumpled onto a nearby bench. She put a hand to her stomach as if she were sick. "Why is he here?" she whispered, terrified.

Miroku thought back to his own conversation with Naraku and sat beside her. "I don't know," he said honestly. His hand twitched towards her, wanting to comfort her, to rub her back — but then he remembered the way she had shuddered at Naraku's touch and guiltily shied away.

Damn it all, the one chance he had to _touch_ her, it was tarnished by that man.

"It seems that everyone is not who they seem," she said softly.

"Sango,," said Miroku, stern and gentle. "You are a princess. You cannot fall apart now."

"A princess who has no idea what's happening," she replied, her voice hardening with each word. "A princess who plays pretend."

"Some people are exactly who they seem. Inuyasha, for example," he pointed out, hoping the well-intentioned joke at their friend would lighten her spirits.

It did not work. She looked at him with unmoving, crumbling pain. "Who has been hiding information from me since this all began."

"The priestess Kagome."

"Who I have just met."

His expression softened and this time, he _ached_ to hold her hands in his. It took all of his strength to keep them still.

"Me."

She was silent, her expression trembling and doubtful as she peered into his very soul. Her eyes were dry but he could see the tears forming, and he knew he would never forgive himself if the very mention of his character made her _cry._

In one fluid motion, Miroku got down on one knee in front of her, bowing his head with reverence.

"Miroku?"

He kept his eyes on the ground. "I pledge myself to you, Princess Sango of Taijiya."

Sango's eyes widened. "Miroku…"

"To serve you and to honor you." He paused. "To protect you."

Sango's shoulders straightened, resuming the regal posture of a princess. "And if you were to win my hand?"

Miroku's head lowered even further. "Then I would do all of those things until my last breath."

This, for whatever reason, was easier to accept than his request to call her by her name. She found her inner balance again and held onto it for strength. Resolving to act like the royalty she was, Sango stood and extended her hand out towards him. "Stand, Miroku. I accept your pledge."

He took her hand and rose to his feet. His expression was grave, as unflinching as his promise to her. He was hers, now.

The seconds ticked by, and still, he stood, holding one hand, looking down at her. Sango could feel her confidence as a princess slipping away as she, the girl, squirmed with embarrassment and uncertainty under his stare.

"We should return. It's my duty, to dance with the suitors tonight," she stammered.

Her words broke the heaviness of the air between them, and Miroku smiled flirtatiously. "Including yours truly, I hope?"

"Yes, I suppose so," murmured Sango, albeit reluctantly.

"Then I reserve the next dance," he said cheerfully as he led her away from the garden and back to the ballroom.

She blushed when she realized her hand was still in his.

* * *

The two chose to make an entrance. With one hand in the crook of his elbow, Sango glided into the ballroom with a demure smile, glowing with newfound confidence because of Miroku. And Miroku, he led her forward with a gentlemanliness he did not truly possess — but he could pretend, for the princess. For this dance.

Until then, few had taken notice of Miroku. But their princess's beauty complemented his good looks and made them a striking pair, and the whispering began almost immediately after the two stopped at the center of the floor.

The tiniest of smirks entertained his lips as he put a hand to her waist, and she bit back her laughter while moving her hand away from his arm and into his palm.

The music began, and they danced.

The people murmured their admirations. For although no man could match their princess in grace, this man certainly did a great job keeping up. His shoulders squared and his lips curved upwards contently, he almost looked like a real prince.

He led her in great sweeping motions, and Sango couldn't help but laugh freely when he spun her too far and nearly let go of her hand. She turned back into him and grinned teasingly up at him.

Miroku winked.

"You're good at this," she said, her voice like a bell in the middle of a crowd.

"I've been practicing."

"Have you really?" Sango laughed again, and his grin was so proud that her heart skipped a beat in time with the music.

"You'll never know."

The people took note of their princess's laughter. It was, they all agreed, beautiful, clear and musical and girlish.

From a distance, the King remembered his wife, and smiled. He then leaned towards an advisor and asked after the man who made his daughter smile.

"Do you see your people?" Miroku asked, his eyes flitting over his partner's shoulder once in awhile to examine their reactions.

"No," said Sango with surprise, "Tell me, what do they look like?"

"They look delighted to see their princess enjoying herself. They're devoted to you, Princess."

Sango smiled self-consciously, and didn't dare look away from the violet of his eyes to see for herself, the adoring expressions of the people she served.

"You're devoted to them," he added, as if he was only just noticing.

Her answer came quickly without any hesitation. "I would give my life for them."

Miroku's brow quirked at her statement. "And leave them without a ruler?"

"What ruler doesn't feel the same?" asked Sango. Her voice was soft but no less determined. She had decided what kind of queen she would be many years ago, when her mother still tucked her into bed and asked the little princess what she imagined of Taijiya's future.

"I wouldn't know, Princess. But I imagine that to be Queen, you must be alive."

"If I can save even one of them, I would."

Although his eyes softened, his lips formed a tight line of disapproval. "I see."

She saw straight through him, recognized the unhappiness he contained so well. "What is it?" she pressed. She didn't like the idea of Miroku holding back his opinions around her; it had been a long few months of secrecy, knowledge passed around like a game before she finally got ahold of it.

His expression clouded, and she watched him wrestle with his emotions before answering her quietly and detatchedly, as if he had no heart in the matter. But his words said otherwise.

"I worry that you confuse being a Queen with being a martyr."

Stung, she looked away. The two danced in silence for a few seconds as Sango lost herself in thought. Miroku waited for her eyes to refocus and took her pause to admire the warmth of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the smoothness of her skin.

"I don't think I'm ready to be Queen," she admitted quietly, breaking his concentration on her beauty.

His fingers squeezed hers instinctively. "You will be a marvelous Queen."

"I can't even be a princess on my own," insisted Sango, her brow creasing slightly as she worried.

"It is lucky, then, that you won't be alone as Queen," Miroku said, voice full of meaning, "You will have a husband."

Sango smiled weakly, and this time it was her hand that tightened over his. "There are still many moons between then and now, I suppose," she reassured them both.

"Yes, I suppose."

She felt a wish brimming in her chest, a hope lit like a candle. "I would have to trust him very much."

"That's a good trait to have in a husband."

"And I think he should make me laugh."

A flicker of motion passed over his face before his expression was suddenly still, carefully void of any reaction to her words.

Sango's cheeks became pink. "And I expect that he should be a good dancer, too."

"Does Taijiya require a King who dances well?" Miroku asked.

She searched him for something, _anything_, and found that he was a perfect shell of pleasantry she could not see past. Had she been wrong? Was there nothing between them?

Discouraged, she responded plainly, "It's a personal preference."

His brow quirked. Sango's breath caught when suddenly, he swept her into the liveliest ballroom dance she had ever been apart of. They were turning and dipping, and it was all she could do to keep her feet from being stepped on. She struggled to keep up at first, looking up only when she heard Miroku's breathy chuckle from above her.

He was laughing, as if his feet moved of their own accord and he could do nothing to stop it. Her expression was incredulous, she knew, and he took that as encouragement, which was completely untrue. Sango glared up at him, demanding with her eyes that he stop at once, but he shook his head and grinned when his laughter faded.

It took a few minutes before her shock and frustration dissolved and she giggled along with him.

She stumbled when he unexpectedly stilled, their clasped hands raised in the air like a punctuation point, his forehead so close that his sweat could have joined with hers. Although they stood still in the ballroom, his eyes continued to dance, and she knew her face mirrored his.

"Did I pass?" he breathed, panting softly.

Her heart flew out of her chest, and Sango imagined it finding its home among the stars.

She smiled slowly, still trying to gather her composure. But she found that it was near impossible with Miroku so close to her, his arrogant expression just waiting for her approval.

"I would say that you win this challenge," said Sango, closing her eyes with part exhaustion and part giddiness.

Miroku's chest swelled with pride and relief. "My third in a row. You could say that I'm on a roll, Princess."

She smiled impishly up at him. "Let's hope it stays that way."

* * *

Although Kagome had always distrusted Naraku, she hadn't_ hated_ him until now.

He was the reason she couldn't enjoy herself, after all. Inuyasha had insisted she dance _every_ dance with him after their first, for fear that she would get distracted and forget the obvious reason she had come to the ball: to remember why Naraku was so familiar to her.

Yes, of course. It had _nothing_ at all to do with dancing, meeting new people, and looking pretty.

She supposed it could have been much worse; what Inuyasha lacked in charm and conversation, he made up for in dancing. Her feet ached and even her arms felt heavy, but Kagome knew that she was moving much more gracefully than she had been many songs ago.

But still — she needed to _sit_, and Inuyasha was as restless as ever. Worst of all, he refused to leave her side. At this point, recognizing Naraku was necessary for her own livelihood, and not just for the people of Taijiya.

She stared at him intently, racking her brain to piece her memory together and form a picture of his face. _Think like Kikyo, see beyond the surface…_

Kagome imagined Kikyo, the way her eyes set wisely on the person talking to her, the kindness of her mouth, the strength in her every movement; the gentle steadiness of her hands as she tended the occasional patient and attendant to the shrine…

Her eyes widened.

The shrine. Patients. Kikyo's hands.

She removed her hand from Inuyasha's and pushed his shoulder back.

He stepped back automatically out of habit more than anything else, but his cheeks reddened with anger. "Wh-what are you doing!?" he sputtered.

"I recognize him," she whispered, locking eyes with him stubbornly.

His expression fell so fleetingly that she nearly missed it. Kagome blinked and searched his taken-aback expression for confirmation that he had actually looked disappointed. Wasn't this what he had wanted in the first place?

"How do you know him?" demanded Inuyasha, putting a hand to his sword immediately.

"I'm going to talk to him," said Kagome as if he hadn't spoken at all.

She had already started walking towards Naraku when Inuyasha hissed, "What do you think you're doing?!"

_What I came here to do,_ Kagome answered in her thoughts, _To save Taijiya._

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 17? Kagome and Naraku introduce themselves.

_Author's Note:_ Hehe.


	17. an escape

_Author's Note:_ This chapter is, again, a little late. But I like to think it's worth the wait. This is the last chapter set during the night of the ball, so enjoy it while you can before we say goodbye! ;) This chapter is dedicated to sankontesu, whose reviews made me laugh an awful lot. Thanks for loving InuKag and reminding me of why _I_ love them, too. I APPRECIATE YOU.

* * *

**Chapter 17: **An Escape

* * *

The sun was setting when he arrived. Battered and bloodied, he stumbled forward and held out a hand desperately.

She heard him before she saw him. His croak was not so much of a word as it was a cry for attention. Panic fluttered over Kagome's features when she saw him, and she rushed forward to steady him, to loan him her strength. She was under his arm just in time, and he toppled onto her shoulder, and she grabbed onto his side to keep him close to her.

"Sir, are you okay?" she asked, voice shrill and troubled.

"Priestess," he wheezed, "Are you… a priestess…"

"I am training to be." Kagome moved one foot at a time, struggling to keep him moving.

"Heal… me…"

His head rolled back and upset his balance so that he fell backwards. Kagome cried out as he left the comfort of her grip on him, and his body hit the fields with a horrifying thud.

"I… Oh no…" Her hands flew to her mouth when she truly saw him for the first time, ignoring the transfer of blood onto her lips from her fingers.

He was burnt. He was burnt badly, and he reminded her of the overcooked dinners she had been making herself lately. Kagome cringed at the thought; this man was not a failed meal, he was a human. She knelt down and put a hand on his chest, listening through her palms.

He was breathing. Good. "I'm sorry, but I'll be back soon," she whispered towards the stranger's ear before rising to her feet and running off.

The man, unconscious and dying, remained left behind, a stark, bright scarlet against the green of spring.

* * *

Her heart was still as she glided past couples, past the music, past the light and the glimmer of the palace, towards the dark center of the room. Kagome had lost sight of Naraku, but she could feel him. In the wake of her realization, her senses had come alive with a spark, and her feet seemed to know exactly where to go on its own. She knew that they would lead her to Naraku.

Kikyo had not told her this: that when the time came, her instincts would propel her forward without guidance. This was the point of her training, then, to know at the core of her being, to know beyond her thoughts.

She felt more like a priestess than she ever had before.

He smiled when he saw her. She searched for a glimmer of recognition in the deep red of his gaze and found nothing. But she knew where she had seen those eyes before. The smell of burnt flesh came to mind, ointments and heavy fragrances. The smell of death, the smell of a lost man.

Naraku bowed. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Priestess?"

She curtsied for courtesy's sake. "Naraku. I never did learn your name all those years ago."

His expression was lit with amusement. "I don't think we've ever been formally introduced, Priestess."

"Not formally, no," Kagome agreed, "but I did save your life."

His laugh held no mirth, and sent a shiver down her spine. "When did that happen, and how did I miss that?"

"Years ago, you were burned alive, and I was the only one who saw hope in helping you. Even Kikyo—," she notice his flinch at the name, "—didn't think you were worth saving. She wanted to leave you to 'the natural order of things, without interfering in the balance of good and evil.' Because she knew, as I did not, that you were an evil man."

"And I suppose _you_ were the one to change her mind," he said dryly, his eyes winding up tightly.

"I took you on myself, but I didn't know enough to heal you, so she eventually stepped in. It was _me_ she was helping. Not you."

His eyes darkened at the veiled insult she had thrown at him, and Kagome did her best not to show her growing fear as she continued. "And you loved her. I saved your life, and she healed you back to health, and you fell in love with her."

He was silent, which Kagome took as confession. "And then you kept coming back, _drunk_. Like a fool who didn't know the value of the life we just barely saved."

"A fool," Naraku agreed, confusing her for only a moment before she pushed past her bewilderment and continued to berate him.

"You fell in love with Kikyo," Kagome continued with quiet, mounting rage, "and you continued to bother her."

"You're very angry," he pointed out, "Why is that?"

"_Because_," Kagome tightened her hands into fists, "she is my teacher, my Head Priestess. I am loyal only to her."

"She is only a woman."

"Why are you here, Naraku?" She dared to step closer, glaring up at him with the bravery of a girl who did not know better. "To win Kikyo?"

He looked away as if he were entirely uninterested in what she had to say. "To win the princess."

"She was happy when you disappeared, you know," Kagome continued, angry that he was not responding, angry that he was still trying to entangle her in a web of lies, of games meant to disturb the mind. "She _hated_ you."

His eyes snapped to hers, alive with a cold flame. Finally, she had gotten a reaction out of him. Naraku stepped closer so that her neck strained with the tension of tilting it back. Her stomach sank when she saw that he was smiling.

"Is that meant to insult me, Priestess?" he said through his teeth.

Kagome did her best not to swallow with mounting fear. "Yes," she said bravely, honestly.

"You don't know me at all. What makes you think you know where to aim?"

"I saw the way you looked at her, back then." This time, she gulped, because she could see his curiosity, his genuine interest in her answer. It was more intimidating than his threats. "You wanted her love."

"Her _love_," he spat, turning his cheek away as if she had struck him. Her palms stung as if she had. "Priestesses do not love, isn't that right?"

Kagome's chin lifted. "Priestesses love all."

Naraku scoffed. "You could argue that love is not love when given to _all_."

She ignored that and waited in silence. She had not come to talk philosophy; she had come to search for the truth.

But he said nothing, and Kagome tired of waiting, so she spoke. "I think you should leave."

"Not without the Princess," he said, his voice like a fire refusing to be stomped out.

She took a deep breath, knowing the reaction her next words would elicit. "I'm not above informing Kikyo of this. Of you."

His words came quietly, but in its softness was a violence that made Kagome shudder. "You are but a girl. Your words are weightless, and your actions are of no consequence — not to me."

"I am a priestess," she said more strongly than she felt.

"You are nothing, and you are no one. Because your heart, your precious heart, is grounded to this world, and you are bound to its expectations, caged to its needs. You will never do, not as a priestess."

She fought against the hand that pressed upon her spirit. The weight of it was overpowering but she could overcome it, if Kagome pushed back hard enough… if she was strong enough…

"For what have you ever done that was not on the back of another? You have borrowed knowledge and power your entire life. And you cannot fight me, you cannot even begin. Even now, you have already lost."

Her lips were dry and pale, but she forced the words out, ignoring the crack of her mouth with each syllable. "I have not lost."

His lips were supple and curled, proud. "You have not won, either."

"I don't hate you," Kagome said softly, her heart pounding, "so there is still hope for me, yet."

This seemed to disturb Naraku deeply, and he stepped to the side so that his shoulder just barely brushed hers. "Do not come near me, again."

"Are you afraid of me?"

He laughed, short barks of condescension. "No," he said, his voice almost kind, "but you, Priestess, should be afraid of me."

* * *

It felt like her eyes had been unveiled; as if she could see the glaring, mocking laughter of those who knew better than to put their faith in such a young, naive priestess. For all of her gumption, Kagome had learned very little. Confronting him had done nothing but terrify her.

Inuyasha was at her side in an instant, and she lowered her eyes with shame. She had failed him. His hands cupped over her shoulders and squeezed, too tightly for comfort. Reluctantly, expecting fury and disappointment, Kagome looked up and searched for a familiar amber color.

Her breath hitched at the warmth of his eyes, the intensity of his concern. In one great heaving motion, Kagome curled into his arms and shut her eyes, her great shuddering gasps of fear sounding like dry sobs.

What was a shocked half-demon to do? His hands hovered in the air for a few awkward seconds before finally, gently, moving to the small of her back. He could hardly breathe; he couldn't even recall the last time someone had touched him like this.

"Kagome," he said, her name sounding like a question he was afraid to answer.

She shook her head stubbornly against his chest and tightened her grasp on his tunic. "I wanted to be brave," she said in a small voice, "I wanted to be Kikyo."

His brow creased, and he wondered what in the world that meant. He had never been good with words, and he had never been in the position of comforting a woman. Sango was the only woman he had ever known, and she hardly ever needed comfort.

"Did Naraku say something?" he asked, doing his best to sound strong although he felt helpless. _That was a dumb question, of course he said something. Why else would she be reacting like this?_

Inuyasha felt rather than saw her nod. Her sniffles were a torture to hear, so pathetic and sad. His hand pressed deeper into Kagome's back as a surge of protectiveness ran through him.

"Bastard," he snarled, "I'll kill him."

She made a barking sound of mirthless laughter. "If a fire can't kill him, how can you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You have some murderous past that I don't know about?"

"No!" she said in protest, the spark of her old self igniting at his accusation, "The first time I saw him, his entire body was burned. Horrifying." Kagome shuddered in his arms, and Inuyasha's grip on her tightened as if he could shield her from the past. "Anyways, I found him, and Kikyo saved him."

With her cheek pressed against his heart, she couldn't possibly see the hardening of Inuyasha's expression, the guarded disturbance. "Kikyo?" he repeated.

"He fell in love with her," she continued like she hadn't heard him, "and he became obsessed with her. Every day, he came to see her."

A memory came to him, from back when he was a shadow at Kikyo's side: the scent of a lurking, metallic scent of a man who should have been dead long ago. Inuyasha bristled, baring his teeth just slightly. So that had been Naraku. But why had his scent changed?

"He stopped coming," Kagome continued, her voice now soft, "and I thought he had died. I even mourned him, but… he's back."

"It's him? You're sure?"

"Yes."

But she wasn't looking at him, and Inuyasha couldn't trust anyone's word without looking them in the eye. More roughly than he intended, he grabbed her chin and lifted it, locking his eyes on hers.

They were still shining from the last stubborn remnants of unshed tears. He faltered for only a second before recalling his sternness. "You're sure?"

She nodded, and his fingers fell from her face. "I'm sure."

Inuyasha dropped his arms and began looking around the room. "I'll be back. Stay safe. Find Miroku, and stay by him."

He walked away, and only then did Kagome allow herself to realize the emotions coursing through her; embarrassment and a girlish warmth, a slow and strange sense of safety. Her lips quirked with a secret to keep, and she wondered if perhaps the ball had been a success after all.

* * *

With rage as red as his clothing, Inuyasha stalked the halls in search of his prey. Naraku's scent was strong, pungent, and, he remembered, similar to rotting flesh.

_Could his burns be returning?_ he wondered. It should be impossible, but now… now, he doubted everything. Inuyasha saved the thought for later, for Miroku, and let his nose lead the way.

The scent grew stronger, stronger, and stronger still, until Inuyasha put a hand to his nose and swallowed a cough. It stung the insides of his nostrils and set off the demon instinct in his head, a ringing alarm that _something dangerous was up ahead._ But he had no choice; he had to keep trudging forward through the slime of Naraku's smell.

He recalled every good memory he had to combat the despair that deepened with each step: the first time he and Sango got into a fight, Kohaku's immediate acceptance of him as a brother, Miroku casually asking for his opinion as Taijiya's personal guardian… the trust in Kagome's eyes as she looked up at him, like she believed he could save her, save them all.

Kagome. The thought of her reminded him of why he had taken the first step, and so he took one last step forward, one final burst of effort to find him — and then, Naraku was there.

He was hunched over with one hand holding the wall in front of him for support, the other hand in a fist over his chest. His breathing was erratic and desperate, almost wet.

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes. He wasn't going to let this pathetic behavior change anything.

"Naraku," he said.

At the sound of his name, Naraku's breathing stilled. Slowly, his hand slid down the wall and finally dropped to his side. Carefully, almost eerily, his body turned to face Inuyasha. To Inuyasha's discomfort, Naraku's eyes were completely covered by his hair.

A growl vibrated in the back of Inuyasha's throat.

"I don't know what you're doing here," he said, voice low and threatening, "but I'm going to end it now." He pulled out Tetsusaiga and pointed its blade at Naraku solemnly.

Softly, Naraku chuckled. "You can put that away, Inuyasha."

"_Prince_ Inuyasha," he snapped.

"You can put it away," Naraku paused, "Inuyasha."

"I'm going to kill you."

"It's hardly a fair fight," he pointed out, still laughing under his breath. "As you can tell, I am already dying."

Inuyasha said nothing. Everything inside him bristled with suspicion and the stubborn denial of fear.

"So, Inuyasha, will you kill a dying man? Do you have the stomach for such cruelty?" He was taunting now, because he knew; he knew that there was no honor in killing a man who could not fight back, and that Inuyasha was not a murderer at heart.

Perhaps if he were more demon than human, Naraku would have more use for him. But until then, Inuyasha was only a mere pawn.

"Do you think I won't?" Inuyasha challenged, nearly twitching with the desire to end this, to end him. But his hand was heavy and his weapon was becoming heavier still.

"I know you won't," Naraku bared his teeth, an expression that was more grimace than smile.

Inuyasha looked his opponent up and down skeptically. He reeked of death, and his skin had a gray tint to it, but otherwise, Naraku looked very much alive.

"Which do you trust more? Your eyes, or your nose?"

Dammit, could he read minds? His grip on Tetsusaiga tightened as he shot back, "Stop talking, I'm the one with the weapon."

"Who said I don't have a weapon?" Naraku lifted his chin so that his smile could be seen.

"I thought you were dying," Inuyasha narrowed his eyes.

"Even the dead need some protection."

To Inuyasha's surprise, Naraku took a step backwards, one hand reaching to grab the wall. Inuyasha watched, unable to move, unsure of what Naraku's plan was. Then the darkness seemed to thicken, substantial enough to hold in one hand, and Inuyasha's eyes widened with the realization that the bastard was trying to _escape_.

"You're not getting away, Naraku! Coward!" he screamed, leaping forward and aiming his sword for Naraku's neck.

He missed, and the blade sliced at the shoulder instead. But it was a wound nonetheless, and Inuyasha would take what he could get. He panted, suddenly finding the air thin in the space around him. Was this Naraku's doing? Was he manipulating the atmosphere, was this possible?

With one arm, Inuyasha shoved Naraku's chest and backed him up against the wall, holding the Tetsusaiga threads away from his long, pale neck. "Explain yourself," he commanded, as princely and as hostile as he had ever been.

Naraku's grin was unsettling and his teeth were an unnatural sheen of white, too bright in the fog of black that was spreading between them. "Too late," he said, his words sounding like a song.

"Answer my question!" screamed Inuyasha.

But this time, Naraku hadn't lied; it truly was too late. For not a second after Inuyasha took his next breath, Naraku's entire body slid through the wall and disappeared.

Inuyasha roared, throwing the Tetsusaiga to the ground. The air cleared and the dim glow of the palace returned, although it seemed out of place now that he'd let a monster slip through his fingers. What would he tell Kagome now?

The color faded from his cheeks when he realized that Kagome was not the only person he had to answer to.

* * *

Entering the ballroom felt like entering another world, one where Naraku did not exist, one where they truly had no worries besides the aching of their feet. But that wasn't true; Inuyasha wouldn't let himself fall into any trap again, not after he had been played for a fool.

On one hand, they were rid of Naraku, a man who posed a great threat to their kingdom. On the other, Naraku had escaped of his own will, with answers they had yet to find. They weren't safe; not yet.

Kagome spotted him immediately. He could see that she was trying to appear calm and unfazed, each step poised and deliberate. But her round eyes betrayed her every expression, despite the steadiness of her posture. She had been worried. For him, or for Taijiya?

It was a stupid, fleeting thought. It was for Taijiya, at the very least; it was for both, at the very most. He was careful to keep his expression stoic when she finally reached him, her hand hesitantly wrapping around his elbow.

"Are you okay, Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha shook his head gruffly and breathed an expletive. In the back of his thoughts, he hoped she hadn't heard, but he could see from her polite expression that she had. Damn it. He was ruining everything.

"He escaped," Inuyasha monotoned.

"Escaped?" Kagome blinked. "How? How can he escape _you_?" He pretended not to see the bright pink spotting her cheeks. "I mean, how could you let him escape? You have a sword!"

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean I can stop him from fucking joining with the wall!"

"Watch your language, we're in public!"

"Make me, bitch!"

Kagome sighed, deciding this battle wasn't worth fighting; not when there was a greater, more ominous one going on. "Tell me what happened."

"I just did. I cornered him and then the next thing I knew, his body was disappearing into the wall!"

"How is that _possible_?" Kagome asked, more to herself than to Inuyasha, who shrugged.

The two quieted, both of them in deep thought. Kagome wondered what would happen now, and how badly Kikyo would react after she was informed. Inuyasha prepared himself for the lecture that Kagome was sure to give him, not to mention Sango's disappointment.

"When are you going to tell them?"

She didn't have to explain who 'them' referred to. Inuyasha sighed and rubbed his jaw with a fist, a tic that Kagome mentally took note of without meaning to.

"I don't know," he said honestly, looking over towards Sango and Miroku. The two of them were speaking with Kohaku, and her hand was tucked into his arm, looking like she belonged by his side and he belonged by hers.

"We have to tell them," Kagome insisted, "This is too important, and Sango was hurt the last time we waited to tell her what was happening with Naraku. She's our princess; she deserves to know."

"I know all that," Inuyasha huffed, "but look at them now. Do _you_ think this is the right time to tell them?"

The two once again glanced towards their direction. Kohaku looked awfully pleased with himself as Sango and Miroku laughed, looking happier than they had all night.

She sighed, unwilling to admit he was right. "No."

He nodded. "Right. I'll tell them tomorrow."

"You promise?"

"Yes. I promise. Like you said, Sango deserves to know."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 17? Naraku is nowhere to be found.

_Author's Note:_ Thank you all for reading :') I looked at the Traffic Stats yesterday and was blown away. Reviews or not, I really enjoy writing this story and I'm glad I have y'all favoriting and following and reading.


	18. moving forward

_Author's Note:_ Thank you for being so patient with me! We're back at a slightly slower pace, but I'm really looking forward to all that's ahead. With Spring Break and then school starting up again, it's been a huge struggle for me to get back into the motions of writing consistently. I'll try to get back on schedule as soon as possible!

* * *

**Chapter 18: **Moving Forward

* * *

The morning after the ball, Sango awoke with a smile. The magic of the night before had not yet left her, and her heart had not stopped fluttering in her chest. Miroku, of all men, had literally swept her off of her feet, and charmed her until her knees were weak.

She had never enjoyed feeling weak before, but this was different, he was different. The two had wandered from conversation to conversation and from song to song, so inseparable that people were already praising Miroku for winning the princess's heart. And perhaps he had, for Sango had never felt like this before.

The maids came to dress her and bring her breakfast, and she hummed a song as they did, unable to keep herself from swaying to its rhythm. She blissfully ignored the giggling glances passed between them and thought of violet eyes and sturdy hands.

The world still had its troubles, of course. There was death and famine and war, and worse of all, a strange mystery that implicated Taijiya at its center. And the questions were still large and looming: was Naraku a threat, or wasn't he? What was the reason for the Silent Hero's disappearance? And who, _who_, would be Sango's future husband?

All of these were pressing matters, and Sango had not forgotten them. But the ball had been lovely, and her primary dance partner had been lovelier still, and she was happy. She could afford herself one day of being a woman before she returned to her royal duties as a princess.

The sound of a throat clearing came from the door, and Sango lifted her eyes to meet the ones of a messenger. "Inuyasha requests your presence in the sparring fields after you wish Kohaku farewell, Your Royal Highness," he said.

Sango nodded, unable to curtsy with her maids prepping her for the day's events. "Thank you."

After the messenger stepped away, Sango's lips fell to a frown. After all, Inuyasha had never _requested_ her presence before.

* * *

By the time Inuyasha realized sparring may not be the best time to inform Sango of his failure, it was too late. She was already coming forward in long strides, her suit flexing with each step. He knew her weapons as well as he knew his own: the arm blades, the sword at her waist, the Hiraikotsu, and all of the other dirty tricks she had up her sleeve.

He swallowed down his growing uneasiness. This had to be done. He'd promised Kagome, hadn't he?

"Inuyasha," she greeted him, "Eager to train, hm?"

With a roll of his eyes, he unsheathed Tetsusaiga and tightened his grip over its hilt. "Bring it on, _Princess_."

A confident smile came across her lips and she grabbed the handle of the Hiraikotsu. "Ready when you are," she paused before mimicking his tone, "_Prince_."

Both of them knew this routine all on their own. They knew the other's instincts by heart, could predict each other's movements with so little as a casual thought. It was only their fierce competitiveness that kept them from coming to a standstill, for neither liked to lose.

Inuyasha grit his teeth and Sango's smile fell to a hard line as both prepared to defeat the other.

She was the first to throw her weapon at him, and with a quick leap, Inuyasha removed himself from its path and began running towards Sango. The Hiraikotsu flew high into the air before heading towards Inuyasha's back. With a curse underneath his breath, he jumped to the side again and remembered why he hated the thing so much.

He ran towards Sango, raising his sword and flashing his most wicked grin. It was easy to forget that he had terrible news to tell; if it didn't have to do with the present battle, if it didn't have to do with _winning_, his demon instincts left it behind. Losing himself in the heat of a fight was the greatest thrill of all.

The Hiraikotsu returned to her just in time for Sango to hold it up against the Tetsusaiga, blocking the blow effectively. He pushed harder, wondering if his weapon was strong enough to crack through demon bone. The two glared at each other as they battled for dominance, gritting their teeth, beginning to sweat.

With one burst of effort, Sango pushed Inuyasha backwards and the two took a step back, reassessing their opponent and deliberating on their next move.

"You tired yet?" Inuyasha taunted.

"No."

She threw the Hiraikotsu his way again and ran forward to meet Inuyasha when he leaped out of its way. Her fist came up the same moment his arm did, and he blocked her attacks as steadily as she threw them.

Behind Inuyasha, the Hiraikotsu whistled through the air as it came for Inuyasha once more, and then he saw it: her distraction. Her eyes were less focused than usual, some land far away.

He grabbed her fist, headed towards his face at a speed slightly slower than usual, and twisted her arm away from him, smirking down at her with victory. Her gaze lifted to the incoming Hiraikotsu and Inuyasha raised his free hand to catch it by the handle. _Checkmate._

She was defeated, and she knew it.

"You give?" Inuyasha smiled triumphantly down at his opponent.

"Yes, I give." He released her fist and she rolled her shoulders back, flexing and massaging her muscles. "Catching Hiraikotsu was a nice touch."

"Fighting the same person over and over comes in handy," Inuyasha handed the weapon back to its owner, the sweet thrill of victory fast fading. He would have to tell her soon, and he had no excuse and no explanation to offer — only his own mistake of reacting too soon and attacking too fast.

She would be disappointed, and she would be angry, but she deserved to know.

Inuyasha took a deep breath and struggled to keep his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. "Sango, I have to tell you something."

His tone was darker than she was used to, and with a surprised raise of her brows, Sango nodded and steadied the Hiraikotsu on her back. "What is it, Inuyasha?"

There was a kindness in her voice that stung and evaporated all of his courage. He looked off to the side and did his best to appear unfazed as his heart began racing. "Naraku's disappeared."

The silence that followed was deafening, physically pressing against his chest and making it hard to breathe. Would she strike him? Would she walk away? Would her words be harsh, would her words be gracious? A part of him winced at the notion of her forgiving him so easily. No, he would rather have her shouting and yelling, he would rather have her pounding fists against him and cursing the world; anything was better than the sad, soft smile she got whenever she was trying so hard to be noble.

Her voice was quiet and calm when she finally asked, "What happened?"

He was a dead man. "I cornered him. Injured him. And then he disappeared." Inuyasha resisted his cowardice and met her stare. "I don't know if he'll come back."

"You attacked him?" Sango asked, her voice rising with thinly controlled anger.

He winced, and then slowly nodded.

She exhaled angrily, appearing more dragon than human, as if fire could erupt from her at any second. "You know better, Inuyasha! You should have planned or strategized or _thought_ before running after him, that's what we've spent our whole lives training to do!"

He had seen her angry before. He had seen her throw gifts across the room in a temper tantrum, snap at Kohaku without reason, lash out at him physically and verbally — but he'd never seen her eyes frantic with desperation and the hopeless look of someone drowning. His stomach dipped with shame; he had done this.

No, _Naraku_ had done this. But he he had surely helped.

"Now we don't know where he is, and we're even farther from understanding his plan than we were before because he's _gone_. All of our suspicions will be for nothing because he ran, and the only way he will come back is if he truly intends to destroy Taijiya."

She stopped to take a breath and look away from him, so pointedly that it almost stung.

"What will we do now, Inuyasha?"

He was not pardoned, nor was he forgiven. Inuyasha wasn't a fool; he knew better than to assume grace when he had singlehandedly chased Naraku off and ruined all chances of understanding his intentions. But he also knew that for him and Sango, there was no point in dwelling on the past.

It had happened. Naraku had gotten away. And if they were in a less urgent situation, the two would have shouted and ignored each other and held it over their heads. But there was no time to be wasted on disappointment and failure, not yet.

"We move forward," Inuyasha answered, sounding much stronger than he felt.

Sango nodded, adjusting the Hiraikotsu on her back, still not meeting his eyes. "Alright. We move forward."

* * *

In a matter of hours, the advisors were gathered at the throne room to sit before the King and await the arrival of their princess and their eldest prince. The advisors sat with their hands clasped tightly before them, and the King waited with a solemnness that did not go unnoticed. He knew, as his advisors did not, that his daughter was not one to arrange such an impromptu meeting casually.

This would have been her only option, her last option. Silently, the King wondered if the foundation of Taijiya shook beneath them.

The doors opened with a soft sigh, and the advisors rose to their feet respectfully. The King met the eyes of Inuyasha first, nodding his acknowledgement, receiving the same gesture in return.

And Sango — Sango looked beyond him, to something far more dangerous than a King.

They sat at the table, and the advisors followed suit. Turning their gaze to their ruler, they waited for the meeting to begin.

Behind his blank mask, the King held back a sigh. How heavy his heart felt.

"Princess Sango," he called, his daughter's posture straightening at the sound of her name, "you called the meeting. The duty to begin is at your disposal."

Her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and fear while she stood to speak.

"The Silent Hero is the reason we began the search for a new alliance, forged by marriage," she began, "but with the search came a new shadow: Naraku."

The mention of his name caught the advisors' attention, and they leaned forward with equal parts anticipation and worry. Beside Sango, Inuyasha looked down to the table in front of him. The King's grip on his throne tightened imperceptibly.

"We were not entirely sure he was a true threat or not, but we did know that Naraku lied about where he came from, and that he acted strangely during the fox demon's challenge. We also know that Head Priestess Kikyo has felt an ominous aura since the suitors arrived to our kingdom — but this is all speculation. I will admit that."

Sango took a deep breath, and the King could see that she was gathering herself before delivering the final blow; they were all waiting for the swift fall of the blade she carried in her palm, the sharp sword of undesired knowledge.

This was what it meant to rule: to make the greatest sacrifices, to share the worst of information, to bear the crushing troubles of a kingdom; to save their people at the highest cost. The King's chest wilted when he realized that Sango had already learned this, much younger than he had ever hoped.

What would her mother have said?

"We may never know if our speculations were correct," she finally said, the harsh truth of it sounding smooth in the guise of her steady voice, "because he has disappeared."

The King exhaled. The advisors, to their credit, were silent, waiting with patient stares for her to finish; but Sango seemed to have nothing to say, looking back at them with the semblance of fear.

As if he sensed her disconcertion, Inuyasha stood beside her. "I attacked him and he disappeared," he stated with all of his characteristic bluntness.

The King could not even find it within him to smile at his adopted son's forthrightness, struck by the gravity of their announcement.

"During the ball, the priestess Kagome recognized Naraku and confronted him. He threatened the priestess and I went after him—," Inuyasha looked away from the advisors' disapproving glances and looked directly at his King, "and after wounding his shoulder, he disappeared into the wall."

"Disappeared into the wall?" one advisor asked skeptically.

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes, and despite the tension of the room, the King felt a small burst of pride when the eldest prince resumed the stature of a regal prince "Yes."

The silence that followed held a knife in its hand, pointed at every person in the room; that they could have stopped this, that they had trapped themselves against a wall, that they were to blame for it all…

The King gathered his thoughts.

Naraku was gone. His escape made him not only suspicious, but also impossible to investigate. For he had only formed the outline of some vague enemy while he lived at Taijiya, but now — now he was a graver threat than he had ever been, a mystery left unsolved. But there was, the King believed, a way.

"We must move forward," he finally said.

"Your Majesty," one advisor looked up to the throne, "should we not question the nature of Naraku's disappearance, considering how dangerous he seemed?"

"Of course." There was only the slightest trace of an eyeroll in his voice and the King thought that he had hid it well, until he saw Sango and Inuyasha hide a flicker of a reluctant smile. "We will keep questioning and searching for the answers to our questions. But there is nothing we can do about Naraku's escape."

"Then what can we do, Your Majesty?"

"We can prepare for his possible return. We must."

"But how?"

The King hesitated before answering, "That, I cannot answer."

Then he turned his eyes to Inuyasha, his expression softening; this was a side of him that his advisors were not often permitted to see, but Inuyasha, their half-demon prince, had always been a special exception. He was the son the King had chosen, not for the circumstances through which he'd come to him and not for his heritage, but for the bravery that shined through him, even as a babe.

The King knew nobility when he saw it; he had seen it in his late wife, and he had seen it in Inuyasha. But he had not seen it come to light just yet, and perhaps now was the time. "We will leave that task to Inuyasha, who seems to have all the answers."

"You Majesty…" Inuyasha trailed off.

"You have acted as Sango's protector since the beginning, and now you must protect Taijiya, as well." The King bowed his head with a reverence that bordered on inappropriate for a King. "I put my faith in your hands."

Sango smiled proudly, but Inuyasha frowned, knowing fully well that this was an opportunity not only to succeed, but also to fail; this was a burden, but it was now his. He also knew that it was not his place to voice his concerns, and so he clasped his hands behind him and bowed. "I will do what I can, Your Majesty."

"You have three days." The King smiled, gravely and without mirth. "I expect you to have a plan, by then."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 19? Kagome and Kikyo discuss Naraku, and the past.


	19. a heart distracted

_Author's Note:_ You are allowed to side-eye me for taking so long with update.

This chapter is dedicated to Angie, hiraikotsus on FF and mirsan on Tumblr! This is complete Angie-service to you. Thanks for helping me make the decision about the next few chapters (elaborated on in the Author's Note at the end).

* * *

**Chapter 19: **A Heart Distracted

* * *

He was a sight for sore eyes. Inuyasha stood tall atop a hill, facing the palace, motionless save for his long hair flying freely with the wind. His clothing was especially intricate today, spun with cloth that looked silky and light. It didn't suit the soft colors of the fields; Inuyasha was too bright, he was too smoldering.

The thought came unbidden and without warning: _He's beautiful._

Kagome's cheeks flushed. Inuyasha was her prince, and the thought was… well, it was jarring, to say the least. She tucked the realization away for later reflection, and tried to remember that he was just something akin to a comrade as she approached him.

After all, if he was truly _just_ a comrade, she would have no fear in approaching him — right?

"Inuyasha," she called out before she could worry herself further, "I didn't expect to see you so soon!"

He turned to face her, eyes grave, almost aflame. They were brilliant, as fascinating as the first time she'd seen them — and this was the wrong time to be noticing.

"I have three days," he said sharply.

"Three days for what?" Kagome asked while walking up the hill to stand beside him.

"Three days to learn everything I can about Naraku."

"Oh."

The two quieted, and Kagome waited for him to continue, wondering why he had come to her. She had told him all she knew; she had nothing else to say.

But perhaps he had come to speak with Kikyo. Kagome still remembered the first time she'd seen Inuyasha while walking over the fields with a basket in her arms; he'd been walking with Kikyo, making her smile to tenderly that Kagome had been touched.

She had wondered what kind of man Inuyasha was, to inspire such gentleness from Kikyo. But then she'd met him and Inuyasha had surprised her. He was not particularly kind or good-spirited; he was grumpy and critical and blunt, straight forward with as much tact as a boulder.

But somehow, Kagome understood, why Kikyo had become so fond of Inuyasha. She was in danger of becoming fond of him, herself.

"How will you start?" she asked, breaking the silence between them.

She watched the curve of his Adam's apple waver, up and down along his throat, as he swallowed for air and courage.

"I need you to talk to Kikyo," he answered, his voice strong although Kagome knew that he was unsure of himself, confused, and a little overwhelmed. And she understood why: this was Kikyo, the first woman he had ever allowed in. She underwood why, because she had watched it happen before her very eyes, unfolding slowly like a dream that she spied on every day.

"Why not ask her yourself?" Kagome asked, remembering how gently he had looked at her Head Priestess.

"Because," was his simple answer, short and concise and complete. Beside him, Kagome waited, but he had nothing else to say. Her stomach caved in on itself with disappointment, although she didn't understand why she felt like wilting under the sun.

"I can do that."

"Good."

The wind picked up and toyed with their clothes, their hair, their hearts. They stood with loud thoughts that they kept to themselves, secrets that they did not trust each other with quite yet. The quiet was almost uncomfortable with the weight of what they both knew but did not speak aloud; like his relationship with Kikyo.

It was Kagome who broke the silence, a question burning the tip of her tongue. "What will you do when we find him?"

His answer came readily, as if Inuyasha had known all along that she'd wanted to ask this of him. "Kill him."

It was the answer she had expected, but when Kagome heard herself inhale sharply, she realized she had hoped for him to surprise her. Only he hadn't; he was a prince loyal to no man but his kingdom, and she was a priestess, bound to the laws of the heavens. And the heavens decreed killing wrong.

"I don't think death will ever be the right answer," she said thoughtfully, diverting her eyes away from his to stare at the clouds, knowing fully well that he was staring at her with a burning defiance.

"What other option do we have?" Inuyasha muttered, "It's the only choice we have left."

"No, it isn't," Kagome insisted.

"Do you have any other ideas, old wise priestess?" he asked sarcastically.

"No," she admitted, "but there is never only one option. We always have a choice."

"He escaped, Kagome!" He breathed a sigh of exasperation. "No innocent man _runs away_, and Taijiya has no business dealing with men like Naraku." Inuyasha's tongue sharpened at the name, spat it out with resentment and contempt.

"You're right, but," Kagome hesitated, "would killing him solve anything? That gives us no answers."

"Well, that's what _I'm_ doing, isn't it? Finding _answers_. In _three days_!" His words unraveled as quickly as his frustration, and Inuyasha's fangs gleamed in the light menacingly. "All because I let him get away!"

With a trembling hand, Kagome lightly touched his arm, hoping to calm him down — but he had only just begun, and his ranting was endless. "How was I supposed to know he could disappear into walls? Stupid, stupid, stupid. I barely even touched him, what is the point of a sword when I can't even use it properly to kill an enemy and—"

"Inuyasha, it's okay," Kagome interjected, raising her voice to quiet his, "You're upset that Naraku is gone. But it wasn't your fault. I refuse to believe that."

He glowered at the hand that still rested on his arm. "Who cares what you believe, Priestess?"

"I don't know, but I _do_ know that you're right. You couldn't have known. And Sango realizes that, too."

His reaction was instant, although subtle enough that Kagome would have missed it had her eyes not been so sharply attuned to him. His stance shifted from offensive to something more tender, more vulnerable.

But his response were the same as ever: "Keh."

Still, Kagome persisted, and her voice was soft as she said truthfully, "I believe in you, Inuyasha."

When he didn't respond, she took it upon herself to step closer, and wrap her arms carefully around his waist. Her heart rose to her throat, its racing _thudthudthud_ roaring in her ears.

He froze.

And she said it once more, wondering if he hadn't heard her the first time: "Inuyasha, I believe in you."

With the side of her face hovering breaths away from his chest, Kagome heard his heart picking up speed too, like the crescendo of a dynamic song. The sound of it gave her strength and she laid her cheek against him, wondering if he would ever just _relax_ and accept her kindness.

It took a few beats, but he did, his hand rising to awkwardly pat her back. But still, his voice was soft as he said, "I know."

Another moment passed, something tender and changing and sweet, before Inuyasha ruined it.

"This is the second time you've hugged me, not even a full day after the last." His words were taunting and laced with arrogance, an infuriating combination. "Is this common among all priestesses, nowadays?"

The heat rose to her temples as Kagome jumped back and stammered, "N-no! Priestesses are… priestesses, they—"

His laugh was loud and sounded more like a howl than anything, but it was sudden and, most of all, sincere. It was the first time she'd heard it, and in sheer amazement, she stopped her shrieking and stared.

And then he made another infuriating remark and there she went, yelling and stomping her foot and trying not to smile through it all.

* * *

Inuyasha returned to the palace with a heavy burden on his shoulders — but it felt lighter now than it had before.

But only by a little.

He was searching for a court archiver when he heard the whispers, the murmurs, the mindless gossiping of the court. Most days, it was aimless chatter, empty noise to fill the quiet of the Taijiya palace. But then he heard two very specific names mentioned in the same sentence, and stopped in his tracks.

His hand reached out before he could stop it and gripped the arm of a passing nobleman. "What did you say?" he growled, glaring down at the man.

It was not customary for a prince to grab a nobleman in any kingdom, but Inuyasha was such an enigma among Taijiyans that the man seemed more afraid than shocked. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"

"You were saying something about the princess."

"Oh." The nobleman chuckled nervously, eyes flickering to the woman he had just been speaking with, who looked on with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. "Just that the princess… well…"

"_Well_?" Inuyasha flashed his teeth for good measure.

"We heard rumors of… of her being particularly… friendly with… one particular man…"

"_Which man?_"

"The monk, the monk!" The nobleman gave into his fright and flinched, shutting his eyes. "By the name of Mir… Mir…"

Inuyasha's nostrils flared, and the name came from his lips like a curse when he finished the man's sentence for him. "Miroku?"

"Yes, that's it!" The nobleman shrank back when he saw the prince's anger, amending his excitement to a frail, "That's it."

Inuyasha released the nobleman's arm and walked away without an apology, heading the opposite direction he had originally been going. He had another room to visit, first.

* * *

Miroku had been staring at the wall for what seemed like hours. The seconds ticked by, counting each moment he was not brave enough to stand and search for what his heart desired. His feet would not move; they were heavy, weighed down by his worry and his disappointments.

This was not part of the plan. She could not be a detour on the journey he'd mapped, and not only because she deserved better; because he had no time for a woman. How could he hope for a future, when time was a luxury he still did not know he owned?

Miroku put a hand to his chest, and with his hand, felt for some obvious, physical indication that he was, in fact, changed. He felt foolish, of course, but don't women make all men feel foolish?

She was the princess, and she was unavailable to him. In fact, even if he wished to see her now, he couldn't. How many times had he gone to the garden, secretly wondering if he would see her there? And how many times had he stayed there, alone, hanging onto some thin strand of wistful hope?

For once, Miroku didn't quite know what to do with himself. He was, after all, only a man, and his heart was easily distracted. And it was certainly easy to be distracted by the lovely princess, whose hand he thought he'd only been pretending to pursue while chasing a darker, more elusive figure.

A knock on the door interrupted his turmoil. Miroku straightened and cleared his throat before opening it.

"Inuyasha?" he said in disbelief.

Inuyasha nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. "We need to talk."

"About Naraku?" asked Miroku.

"No." Inuyasha's glare deepened, and Miroku gulped. "About Sango."

"Ah, I see," Miroku smiled nervously, "Then come on in."

The muted shades of Miroku's room looked out of place with Inuyasha at the center of it. He was vibrantly colored silver and yellow and scarlet. The brown-and-gray walls did not suit a prince.

Miroku waited in front of the closed door, wondering how the hell Inuyasha knew of the budding feelings in his chest towards the princess. He waited for the conversation to start, already planning a longwinded monologue on duty and honor and dignity that would annoy Inuyasha enough to urge him to leave.

But Inuyasha was silent, and although Miroku was usually a patient man, he was beginning to feel restless.

"I assume you came here with good reason?" Miroku said, his statement sounding more like a question.

Still, Inuyasha did not say a word, his stare so endless that Miroku began to feel uneasy and a little sick.

"Inuyasha, I am not here to play games."

"Are you sure?" Inuyasha said, his words like a thousand daggers aimed at Miroku's throat. He looked dangerous,, and Miroku wondered if he had underestimated Inuyasha after all. For he was not all empty threats and overdone strength; he was more flame than anything else.

"Yes," Miroku said smoothly.

"Then what are you here for? Why are you here?"

Miroku recalled asking Naraku that same question, and wondered if thinking of a woman too often was as villainous as posing a dark threat to an entire nation.

Eyes flashing, Inuyasha curled his lips back into a slight snarl. "I saw you and Sango at the ball."

"As did many other attendants," Miroku quipped, unable to help himself.

"People seem to think you are an item. And I would believe it, if any man would come to Taijiya just for Sango. But we're too small of a kingdom for that, and every man here comes with a secret purpose."

"You knew all this before the ball."

"Yes. And I wouldn't have given a single shit, except now people are talking and Sango actually has been acting strangely since."

_That_ was a surprise. The tension dissipated for a moment and the fog lifted as Miroku's heart pounded and tried to leap out of his chest. Sango had been affected, too.

Then the tension fell back with heavy force and the fog only became thicker when Miroku realized — Sango had been felt it, too.

But that only meant trouble for both of them, because hearts were not to be trusted until the future was secured, until _his_ future was secured.

"Are you even listening to me!?" Inuyasha grabbed the fabric at Miroku's neck, and his fists brought their foreheads together so closely that Miroku could feel his friend's sweat in his hair. "You _cannot do this to Sango_. You're useful enough but you're not going to marry her, and she _can't fall in love with you_—"

"I know," Miroku interjected, calm and collected… but still sad.

Inuyasha, being the dense young man he was, didn't register the loneliness in Miroku's admission, and felt not pity but surprise. His fist loosened and lowered so that his friend could take a step back, put distance between them, and weakly rub his throat.

"That's the second time you've nearly choked me."

Ignoring Miroku's weak attempt at humor, Inuyasha said, "You understand, then. That Sango will marry another man."

He couldn't have known about the changing landscape of Miroku's heart, but that did not make the blow any lighter. After all, ignorance does not make cruelty softer. With a twinge inside his chest, Miroku nodded. "I understand."

Inuyasha's entire body seemed to relax, release its tension. "Good. You should stay away from her, just so she has time to get over whatever she's feeling right now."

Putting an end to their heated discussion, he looked around Miroku's quarters curiously and without judgement. "This is different than what I expected."

"You've never been in this wing, then?" Miroku asked, choosing to focus on small talk instead of imagining a beautiful princess in armor, eyes laughing and hair flying.

After all, hearts were easily distracted. And if Sango could not be his distraction of choice, then he would have to return to the superficial veneer of this world.

* * *

The task was simple enough: to solve a series of riddles quicker than the other suitors, to prove cleverness and wit and cunning.

The task was simple enough, for Miroku. That, Sango was sure of. She had seen it in him: the way he spoke, the knowing glint in his eye, the curl of his smile. She had seen something smart in that violet gaze of his, and she had nothing but confidence in his abilities.

And so she was sure to keep her attention on him when the task was announced, expecting him to flash a grin at her after the announcement was made. Sango was sure that he would understand, that she had intentionally crafted this challenge in hopes of being alone with him again. Her heart hummed with anticipation of it, that confident smirk of his.

Pressing her lips together to resist a smile of her own, Sango looked from the announcer to the suitor, spirits soaring. Naraku's disappearance had given her this one gift: now, she could enjoy Miroku's company without the feeling of neglecting her people.

But he wasn't looking at her, he was looking straight ahead. The smile she'd been unable to keep off her mouth fell to her stomach, and disappointment lurched in her gut when she realized she had never seen him look so grim and cold.

* * *

There was no home truly left to him, but this would do: a sea as dark as his eyes, sand that was coarse and rough and grating. Here, he rested, as he could rest nowhere else. Here, he had no name, but he found that he quite liked the name he had given himself before traveling to a far-away land to conquer it, and its princess.

He arrived at the island and was greeted by a crowd of evil things, ugly and fearsome.

"Master," the demon standing before the horde said, head bowed with reverence.

He nodded, and after a moment, said, "Call me Naraku."

"Yes, Master Naraku."

Scarlet eyes sharpened, and the most wicked of hearts stopped in terror at the sight of it. "Naraku."

"Yes," the demon hesitated, afraid to say the name without a title before it. But those scarlet eyes demanded respect, and so he rushed to amend his statement and added, "Naraku." Then, as if to lead attention away from his blunder, the demon asked, "Have you come to stay?"

It was with a sigh that Naraku looked away, staring out into the sea, trying to remember why he had returned. But the memory would not come; his heart felt hard and cold, even barren.

"Yes." His words sounded faraway, as if they were not truly leaving his own mouth. "I have come to gather the army."

The demon nodded as if he had expected this answer. "Then we shall begin."

Naraku blinked, recalling the steely brown eyes of a princess who did not trust him. "Yes," he said slowly, a memory forming, "so it begins."

* * *

What's Happening in Chapter 20? I honestly have no fucking idea so we'll see how this goes.

_Author's Note:_ So I decided to make this fic a little longer by holding off on the next Great Plot Point for the sake of better character and relationship development. That doesn't affect what will happen but it _will_ add a few more chapters to the mix, and I'm a little at a loss for how I will do it. But it's okay, we will figure it out. This chapter has been somewhat difficult to write, because I had no outline for it, but it all happened organically and I'm excited for the chapters to come because of this one!


	20. a wish

_Author's Note:_ Hello again, and happy summer!

All of my thanks goes to sxm132 for creating the cover art for Sango's Choice, and Angie ( hiraikotsus) for commissioning it. I'm so so lucky to have such a great friend, and such a talented artist, too! I can't stop staring at it, honestly. So thank you, thank you a million times over!

* * *

**Chapter 20: **A Wish

* * *

During times like these, Kikyo searched for peace in her memories. Her slender fingers ran across the top of a pendant in her palm, a relic from her home village in the shape of a seashell. If she wished hard enough, she could hear the soft coaxing of the ocean as it slipped to the shore and snuck away.

She could hear that same coaxing now. It would be easy to believe that danger had left them to peace, if only because it was what they all wanted to believe. But Kikyo was a priestess before she was a Taijiyan, and she would not be blinded by false hopes and idle dreams.

The wind came flying through her hair and Kikyo closed her eyes, welcoming the breeze that tasted not of salt but of danger. For there was still some lingering darkness in the air, and it had not left with the spring.

There was some strange menace in the summer. Taijiya was humid during these months, almost unbearably so. The people grew tired and weary from the blistering heat, as if the exposure to the sun brought out their more wicked natures.

Perhaps it was the way of humanity, to hide iniquity in favor of pleasantness. Her mentee Kagome was still young enough to believe that all people were good. But Kikyo, although only older by a few years, had seen much more of the world, and she doubted; the world, the people in it — she doubted them all.

"Head Priestess," Kagome's familiar voice said.

Concentration broken, Kikyo turned in time to see Kagome bow her head respectfully. "Kagome. Do you come with a report so soon after your last?"

"Not today, Head Priestess. I come with a question."

A single brow raised delicately, Kikyo waited with hands clasped before her.

For a brief moment, Kikyo wondered if Kagome would voice the question that twisted her features with hesitation and fear. But then a new strength came to Kagome's eyes, a steely will that surprised Kikyo.

"Do you remember the man we saved from burn wounds?"

She did, although she had chosen to abandon the memories years ago. For what was a bandit to her, in light of all the good in the world? For what could she remember of him, other than twisted deceit and strange behavior?

"Yes, although I only remember bits and parts. The smell of dying flesh, the sight of festering wounds… I don't even remember his name."

"Naraku, it was Naraku." Kagome paused, assessing Kikyo before continuing, "He returned. And then he disappeared."

Kikyo's gaze sharpened and sent a slight chill down Kagome's spine, all the way to her fingers. "What?"

"Naraku was here, Head Priestess. He was in the castle, and he was fighting for Sango's hand. And then… and then he vanished."

Eyes closed and chin lifted to the sky, Kikyo tried to recall her last memory with Naraku. She could vaguely recall a sinister smile, a smell like smoke, the eery feeling of being watched… But the picture that came to mind was blurry. She'd had other things to consider, during those times. Naraku had been the least of her worries, but then — but then he had come to haunt her.

"What caused his disappearance? Who chased him away?" Kikyo asked, eyes still closed, fearing that she already knew the answer.

And she was proven correct, when Kagome answered, "Inuyasha."

Of course.

Slowly, Kikyo's eyes opened, a wall protecting the frayed edges of her heart's emotions. She was the Head Priestess of Taijiya, after all; she knew how to hide her weaknesses.

"Tell me more."

And so Kagome did, starting from the very first words Inuyasha had spoken to her. Through it all, Kikyo kept her expression blank as she listened intently, fighting the feeling that Kagome had taken her life. For there she was, in the middle of it all: Inuyasha, Naraku, the castle…

That had once been her. The fondness with which Kagome spoke of Inuyasha awakened a part of her that Kikyo had sealed away long ago, and she could feel the beginnings of jealousy sparking within her.

She'd loved Inuyasha. And clearly, Kagome would soon, as well.

"He has three days to gather as much information about Naraku as he can, and it seemed that the best step to take was to ask you," Kagome said, her story almost background noise in the face of Kikyo's roaring thoughts.

It was, to say the least, very much to take in.

"He didn't ask me himself," Kikyo noted.

"Yes," Kagome blushed, so delicate and soft and refreshingly pink, "I suppose he was very busy."

"Or afraid."

Kagome didn't respond, and Kikyo was glad for it; she shouldn't have said anything. A small part of her enjoyed watching Kagome squirm, although she mostly regretted feeling even a hint of pleasure at another's discomfort.

"So you think Naraku was in love with me," Kikyo offered a different direction of conversation, which Kagome took eagerly.

"Yes. He was here so often, was he not? And it was you he asked for, you he longed to see, you he watched every time you were near. And the way he reacted to your name — I'm sure of it."

"I believed so, myself."

That seemed to surprise Kagome, whose eyebrows disappeared into her forehead almost comically. "You did?"

"Yes." Kikyo was already tired of this; she was not one to open the door to her heart. She kept her thoughts tucked in close, held at her chest by her bosom; guarded, if only because she valued herself too highly to freely give parts of herself to others.

Above all, she was a Head Priestess; before she was Kikyo, she was a leader, and she carried a great burden on her shoulders.

"Do you believe he came back for… you?" Kagome asked.

"I can't say. It's been many years, after all. My memory fails me."

Kagome gave a sigh of exasperation, to which Kikyo frowned at her critically. "Do my answers displease?"

Caught in her frustration, Kagome's cheeks reddened, and she shook her head like the girl she was. "No, no! Inuyasha will just be furious with me for not having much to give to him," she said, nervous laughter laced through her words.

"You worry about what Inuyasha will think of you if you do not help him sufficiently," Kikyo said knowingly, recognizing the glint in Kagome's eye that aimed to please the man she cared for.

Just as Kikyo had expected, Kagome began to stammer and fumble with her words. Her heartbeat faltered; how hard it was, to see life move on without you, even when you had been the one to push it away.

"Then I shall help you," Kikyo said as if it were an announcement, a choice she had deliberated on and only just made. Her hands tightened, fingers clasping at each other, trying to maintain control. "Because Naraku did, indeed, love me. And I did not love him, but I knew him, and I suspected that his disappearance from my life was more sinister than sincere."

Kagome nodded her encouragement, and Kikyo could almost see her thoughts writing down every word, tucking each bit of information away to report to Inuyasha, who had been hers first. But he was not hers anymore, clearly.

And she had wanted it that way, Kikyo reminded herself. She had been the one to push love away; she had no right to feel the sting of rejection when she had done all of the rejecting.

"He was always near, even when I could not see him; I could feel him, at the edges of my life, closing in. He was obsessed, and I say that without vanity. I spurned him. I turned him away, as often as I could."

Here was the part that she hated to voice aloud.

"Then he pushed me to sleep with him, trying to blackmail me, manipulate me: the Head Priestess of Taijiya, the spiritual leader of our nation."

"He wanted your body," Kagome whispered in horror.

"Sex," Kikyo said sharply, her voice like scissors, "is not always about lust. Oftentimes, it's about war, and power, and control. It was not my body he wanted; it was dominion over me, a woman of higher station."

Kagome nodded, up and down, if she understood; but Kikyo had already been reminded of her innocence, her purity, and how little she knew of the world and its monstrosity. When she continued her story, Kikyo's voice was softer, and kinder, and more detached than before.

"I rejected him, of course. I am more than a woman, I am the Head Priestess," her chin lifted proudly as she spoke aloud her title, "and no man touches me without my permission. But Naraku did not take to rejection kindly, and shortly after, he disappeared."

"Because you did not sleep with him." Kagome's eyes were so sad, so sympathetic, and Kikyo despised it. She was above pity; had it not been her choice? Had she not refused him and asserted her strength?

And still, even the fact that Naraku had _tried_, spoke volumes — as if sleeping with her was even an _option_. In the eyes of the world, she was a woman before she was the Head Priestess. For that, she hated Naraku, hated him with everything she had.

"I suspected he had disappeared to recover, and then return to enact vengeance on me of some kind. But," Kikyo frowned, "I don't see how the princess played a role in this."

"Perhaps to make you jealous," Kagome suggested, like the child she was.

"Perhaps," Kikyo said, the word hollow in her mouth. Because Kikyo knew, as Kagome did not, that evil men did not do things for such petty reactions; evil men, like Naraku, meant to destroy, and did not often stop until they were successful in ruining everything — including themselves.

* * *

There were many distractions to be found in the castle, and Sango did her best to relieve her anxious thoughts with all of it: the music, the meaningless chatter, the constant sparring. But still, the image of Miroku so persistently avoiding her eyes remained, and she could not escape it, hard as she tried.

She could not understood, why he had turned his face away from her without warning. Hadn't they been happy, for one night? Couldn't that night be the beginning of many more to come, a possible future between them?

Sango stared out from the window of her bedroom trying to empty her mind, staring into the expanse of green, rolling hills and the villages between them. Her country was beautiful, to say the least; but her thoughts were still of Miroku.

She turned to the guard that stood at her door, and before she could stop herself, said, "Please find Inuyasha and bring him to me. I have something to ask of him."

"Of course, Your Highness." With a short bow, he left and did not return for another hour with Inuyasha in tow, whose nostrils were flared and eyes bright with suspicion.

Sango pointedly avoided his mild glare, and stared out the window instead. She wasn't quite sure why she'd called for him; the one question she truly wished to ask was the one she wouldn't dare say out loud. After all, she was a princess; and princesses did not dwell on unmet stares and the strange turns of the heart.

Inuyasha gave an impatient sigh at her hesitation. "Was there something you wanted, Princess?"

She turned to him and said the first thing she could think of: "Yes, I was wondering how your mission was going."

He narrowed his eyes at her in examination, as if he was trying to figure out what was wrong with her. "Well enough, when I'm not being pulled away to answer pointless questions."

Sango forced herself to laugh, short and pleasant and perhaps a little nervous. "I was also wondering… if you had heard from Kohaku at all?"

His expression shifted from skepticism to outright distrust. "He just left. How would I have heard from him before you?"

"That's a good point." Sango tried not to falter beneath his stare, but he looked as if he already knew how her thoughts pointed back to Miroku time and time again…

"I was also wondering if you've spoken to Miroku recently?" she blurted out.

Knowledge trickled into Inuyasha's eyes slowly, little by little until he looked almost horrified at what she had accidentally revealed to him. "You _do_ like him!" he cried out angrily.

"No, I don't!" Sango shook her head violently until she could hear her thoughts crashing into each other. "I was just wondering, I want to be informed on these things."

"You're just using me for gossip, like I'm one of your maids or ladies." Inuyasha made a noise of disgust at the notion of court gossip. "I won't be a part of this."

"I only asked you a simple question," Sango said, her voice sounding like an exasperated sigh.

"Then here's my answer: we spoke of Naraku and other matters pertaining to Taijiya," Inuyasha deadpanned.

His answer was a disappointment, although Sango wasn't sure what she'd hoped for; a conversation about her would be inappropriate, and she would have been angry to hear it.

"I see," she said, although she didn't see at all. If anything, she was even more confused than she'd been before.

"Is there anything else you needed?"

"No. You may return to your interrogations," Sango tried for a smile and hoped that it sufficed.

Inuyasha didn't appear convinced, but he huffed unhappily and left without a goodbye.

* * *

Unsure of where else to lose herself, Sango went to her private sanctuary, hidden in the corner of the gardens. She was relieved to find herself alone so that she might think in peace; the ball seemed to have stolen the clarity of her thoughts and blurred the edges between her mind and her heart.

Admittedly, Miroku held much of the blame. He had danced with her, pledged his loyalty to her… all at the heights of her stress after one dark encounter with Naraku. Life at the palace had become much more complicated, and Sango would do anything to have simplicity again.

She held a single flower in her palm, plucked from the garden's entrance. She could vaguely recall her mother explaining an old Taijiyan superstition to her, of whispering a wish into the petals of a flower before giving it away to another.

Sango pressed the petals to her lips, and said softly, "I wish for peace."

"Princess?"

At the sound of his familiar voice, Sango looked up with surprise. "Miroku."

He looked hesitant, an expression so unfamiliar on his features that she wondered if this was a trick. But then he smiled so charmingly at her that Sango questioned whether she'd seen nervousness in him at all.

"You're trying to steal my favorite place in the castle," Sango said lightly, trying to keep their conversation pleasant. There was a casualness between them that felt strange, foreign, misplaced; she wasn't used to being so diplomatic around Miroku.

"Not so much stealing as visiting," Miroku replied.

Sango smiled, although it felt false on her lips, and said, "You may take a seat, if you'd like."

"No thank you, Princess. I will leave you to your thoughts, so that I do not intrude."

Miroku began to bow but Sango stood before he could properly bend over at the waist. The flower fell from her fingers as she stepped forward. "Miroku, is something wrong?"

He froze, eyes fixed to the dejected flower. Sango held her breath, waiting for him to speak, to move, to do _something._

Finally, he straightened, and met her eyes solemnly. The blankness of his eyes reminded her of how he'd appeared during their dance, after she'd implied at her growing fondness for him. _And I expect that he should be a good dancer, too._

He had looked so emotionless, then, just as he did now.

"Nothing is wrong, Sango," he said. Something about his gentle voice hurt her, as if kindness could ever be cruel. "I only sense that you would like to be left alone."

He wasn't wrong; she _had_ wanted to be alone with her thoughts, her emotions. But then Miroku had arrived and changed her mind, made her think that perhaps being with another was better than sitting by yourself in a barren garden.

But who was she to ask him to stay? Her request would come off as a command from a princess — and Sango felt intensely that she did not want to be a mere princess to him. She wanted to be a girl, a woman, whom he would sit silently with in an unplanted garden.

"Well…" Sango's eyes fell to the ground in disappointment. Her gaze happened upon the flower she'd dropped without thinking, and she bent to retrieve it. She had already spoken her dream into it; now, she must give it away.

"There's an old Taijiyan ritual of saying a wish into a flower before handing it to another," Sango said, staring at the flower to avoid Miroku's eyes, "So that when you are kind to others, another kindness may be returned to you."

Feeling a little daring, Sango reached out for his hand and uncurled his fingers, pressing the small flower into his palm. His hand automatically wrapped around the small gift she'd just given him, and she dropped her hands back to her side.

"My wish was for peace," she admitted, finding the courage to look up at him.

Miroku stared down at the flower she'd given him as if it were an object he'd never seen before. She would have laughed at his fascination with a mere daisy, if not for the strange tightness in her chest — not because he was leaving, but because he had somehow become a stranger to her, and she could hardly recognize him with the formalities and the titles and the silence.

"You are a strange princess, Sango," he said suddenly, the words sounding strained as they left his mouth.

"How so?"

"You inspire hope in all places and people." Miroku offered her a small smile. "And I'm afraid I have fallen victim to it."

"A victim," Sango repeated, sounding almost offended, "You make it seem as if I were a criminal."

He shook his head and his lips moved to offer an explanation, but he seemed to have changed his mind before he spoke and fell silent. He only stared at her as if trying to memorize every line of her face, making her somewhat uncomfortable.

"What is it?" she asked after a brief moment of awkward silence.

"Nothing," he said, "Nothing is wrong."

His vague answer pushed her from disappointment to frustration. Was it so hard to speak of feelings and intentions without this sidestepping? Could he not have a single straightforward conversation?

"You are the strange one, Miroku, and I am sick of this game," she said angrily.

Her response seemed to amuse him. The light returned to his eyes and a smile brightened his expression. "Sango, is something wrong?"

"Yes! I cannot hope to ever understand you." Sango rushed over and reached for the hand she'd put her flower in, but he pulled his arm away from her so that all she succeeded in doing was running into him.

"You cannot take back a gift," Miroku scolded her, sounding more like his old self, "A princess should have better manners than this."

She took a step back and put distance between them, so irritated that she barely noticed his boyish grin. "Why are you acting as if we are no longer friends?" she demanded, "Like we are strangers?"

Miroku's smile dropped from his face and left a stricken man in its wake. "I didn't realize…"

"That you are an insufferable, wretched man?"

"That you considered us friends."

"Oh." Horror filled Sango's belly when she considered for the first time that perhaps Miroku _did_ only see her as a princess, that they had never been friends, that she had fooled and blinded herself…

"I see." She swallowed and began picking up what was left of her pride. "I was wrong, then. My apologies. I'll be leaving now—"

"Sango." Miroku put a hand on her cheek and stroked the top of her cheeks with his thumb. "There is no need to apologize."

Heat rose to her cheeks so that he could feel them burning with embarrassment at his touch, at the intimacy of a simple hand against her face.

"We are friends," he assured her, "We are."

Before Sango could quite process what was happening, a smile blossomed on her lips and her heart calmed at the fondness in his voice, his words, his closeness. She stared up at him, afraid to even blink lest she wake up.

"I suppose the first part of my wish was granted," Sango said, more to herself than to him.

"This is peaceful to you? My touch?" Miroku teased.

There was a suggestive look in his eye that horrified her at once, and she slapped his hand away from her face as if his palm had scalded her. "No!" she cried.

He laughed, loud and free, and it was all Sango could do to hold onto her indignation at his lewd comment. "I only tease you, Sango," Miroku held up both hands in defense, "As a friend."

"As a _friend_, you should know that I would never debase myself that way," Sango grimaced at the thought of it.

"Of course not, you are a princess, as pure as you are strange," Miroku said wisely.

She chose to ignore the mocking in his tone. "Yes, I am."

"You were saying? About your wish?" Miroku held up the flower she'd given to him and twirled it between his fingers as he spoke.

"Knowing that we are still friends is a peace to me," Sango admitted begrudgingly, still unwilling to forgive him after his joke, "Although I'm beginning to regret it now."

He grinned at her, and she glared at him, and the garden began to feel a little less empty as the sound of banter and laughter and shrieks of outrage filled its barren corner.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ At this point, I've decided to stop giving 'What's happening in Chapter ##' bits because I honestly have no idea what will happen. Sorry, guys! But that will make the surprise that much more fun :)


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